


The Source of Magic

by grenouille



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-04-17
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grenouille/pseuds/grenouille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's travels after the fall of the Dark Lord lead him to something that scholars have sought for ages. But what will be the repercussions of this discovery? Post DH, no crapilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Source of Magic

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never was, and never will be.

**A/N:** This came about as a result of an extended email conversation between Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed) and me. During this exchange, a mild and shy little bunny came my way with an idea. By the time this idea went back and forth a couple of more times, Vern somehow convinced me to give it a try. At that exact moment, one of his vicious plot ‘roos Apparated into my family room and er, well, did unspeakable things to that poor little bunny. Be assured that no bunnies or ‘roos were harmed during the writing of this story (as evidenced by the shit-eating grin on the bunny’s face).

This is actually the first fic I ever attempted to write. It was about a year ago and even though I received quite a bit of encouragement from Vern and the members of the HermansTumbledweeds Yahoo! Group, I really didn’t feel like I was ready to attempt this, so it sat in its own dusty corner of my hard drive, forgotten. I ran across it recently and that damned afore-mentioned ‘roo showed back up again, so now I’ve got another damned story going. This one, however, will be taking a back seat to the other two.

Thanks again, as always, to Vern for his excellent suggestions and betaing skills.  Make certain to read his stories if you haven’t already.

 

Chapter One

Harry pulled the rented jeep off the side of the highway and watched the sun set across the desert while he waited. So much had changed for him in the time since he and Hermione had left (or was it escaped) merry olde England to travel. “_Has_ _it really been two years since we eradicated Snakeface?” _He thought_. “Hermione was right, I needed to get away_. _I needed to go somewhere, anywhere away from all that bullshite, where I could **not **think. So why am I still thinking?”_ he added with an internal chuckle, in spite of the fact that remembering his friend caused a pain in his heart. He mused, “_I wonder how she’s doing in Australia?”_ The contemplative wizard’s thoughts drifted back to the last time he saw the bushy-haired genius.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

They sat together in silence in the departure lounge at Heathrow Airport waiting for Hermione’s first flight on what they’d been calling her ‘scenic route’ trip to Australia. Emotions were running high as they realized that this may be the last time they were together for an incredibly long time.

Harry finally broke the silence, “Are you sure you don’t want some company? At least as far as Hawai’i?”

“No, Harry,” she replied sadly, “I have to, no, I _need _to do this by myself. As much as I would love to have you with me for the whole thing,” she sighed sadly, “I think that they’re going to be angry enough with me as it is. Having another magical person around is likely to make matters worse.” She turned and held him tightly as tears began to flow freely, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t want anything to do with me at all after what I’ve done to them.”

Harry said nothing as he held her while slowly stroking her soft, brown hair.

A few minutes later her flight was announced, and she looked up at him with tearful sadness in her eyes as they rose to their feet. “I didn’t think that this would be so hard. I’m glad to be going to see mum and dad, but I’m afraid that I’m going to lose my best friend. I love you, Harry, and I’m going to miss you. Promise me we’ll see each other again? Please?”

Harry held back a few tears of his own as he whispered, “As often as we can. Call me when you get to Sydney; before you go to see your parents. If you decide you need me to be there with you, I will. In fact, if at any point you need me, just call; I’m just an international Portkey away. I love you, too, and as long as you want me in your life, I will be.” He then added with a twinkle in his eyes, “And maybe even if you don’t.”

Hermione pulled back a little to look at him with a sad, lop-sided grin similar to her best friend’s. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah.”

She reached her arms up around his neck and kissed him deeply. Then she was gone.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Harry shook his head to clear the memories away. Hermione was happy and healthy. What might have been didn’t matter anymore and he was thrilled to have a sister of sorts. The Weasleys, however, were another story. To this day he couldn’t believe the way that he and Hermione had been treated.  Yes, the actions of the Wizarding World toward them were just as they had expected. Ron’s (and to a lesser extent, Ginny’s) response to those actions was not terribly surprising, either. _“But the way we were treated by those we thought of as family?_ _How could we have been so stupid?”_ Harry questioned for the umpteenth time. Unbidden, his reflections returned to that time as well.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Ron just basked in the glory of all the parties and award ceremonies. In spite of promising each other to keep the details quiet (as Harry **really** wanted to fade into anonymity), somehow the story leaked out. Orders of Merlin, awards from other European ministries, and cash awards flowed like water for the Trio, and Ron just sucked it up. After years of being “the youngest Weasley boy”, not to mention “Harry’s sidekick,” he felt that he was owed the public adulation. And Ginny wasn’t any better; in fact she was even worse in some ways. Her years of idolizing the “Boy-Who-Lived” came back with a vengeance. She somehow became the simpering eye-candy fan-girl type that she knew Harry hated. Then it got bad.

Upon their arrival at the Burrow after the battle, Ginny was prepared to re-establish her claim on Harry. She was more than ready to pick up where they left off after Dumbledore’s funeral. Harry half-heartedly went along with it, but secretly had reservations which mysteriously vanished as time passed.

Party after party, ceremony after ceremony, it never seemed to end. Harry was at first hesitant to attend, but went along with his girlfriend as Ginny had never experienced such things before and she seemed to enjoy the attention. Ron, of course just basked in it.

Ron. His erstwhile best mate. He thought, _“I’d better never run into that bastard ever again!_ _How could he have done that to Hermione? Never mind what he did to me, but he did it to her.”_ He growled out loud. In the name of “One Big Happy Weasley Family” Ron had given both Harry and Hermione a long acting love potion. _“I wonder who made it for him. His potions skills are shite.”_ It had turned out to be a good thing that Ron had left him and Hermione for so long during the Horcrux hunt as it had given them a chance to throw off the effects of the potion. Of course, that led to other things; things that, while **very **enjoyable, proved to both of them that they weren’t meant to be more than they were - the best kind of friends: the kind of friends that only two only children can be who grew up and fought a war together. “_Of course,” _he considered,_ “who knows what the future may hold?” _

After a couple months of this, Hermione came up to him one night while at one of the many parties that Ron and Ginny were always dragging them to. “Harry, can we get away from them later and talk alone?” she whispered in his ear.

“Sure, but how? You know that either they or Molly are always around,” Harry replied.

“I have that all under control. Slip this into Ginny’s drink right before we leave. An hour later, they’ll sleep for 10 hours and think that they just had too good of a time here tonight.” A small vial of potion was discretely slipped into his pocket.

“Out by the pond, then?”

“See you there.”

Later that night, Harry was sitting under a tree near the pond on the edge of the Weasley’s property. He heard Hermione approach. “Harry?” she called softly.

“Over here.” he replied, just as quietly. 

In the near total darkness he felt, rather than saw, her sit down and cuddle next to him. His arms automatically went around her. After a few minutes, she commented, “This is nice. How long has it been since we’ve been alone together?”

“Not since Ron came back during the hunt, now that I think of it,” Harry answered. “I kinda miss just sitting with you. It’s so much more peaceful. I wonder why we haven’t made the time lately.”

“I don’t know,” she replied. She hesitated, before asking a sensitive question. “Harry, how have you and Ginny been getting along? Honestly, now,” she implored.

“Fine, I guess. It’s just…” He trailed off. “It’s just that things seem almost… I don’t know, too easy.”

“And too fast?”

“And much too fast. Hermione, what’s wrong? You wouldn’t have gone to all of this effort, right under Molly’s nose, just to cuddle. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I was serious when I said that I miss it.”

She sighed deeply, “I don’t know, Harry. I really don’t know. I mean; why are we here at the Burrow when we swore to ourselves that we weren’t going to subject ourselves to this... this... whatever it is? I mean really, why are we here with the people who tried to take our choices from us; doing what we’re doing and looking like bloody fools? I didn’t want this; you’ve never wanted this! And I,” she stopped suddenly. Her voice had been getting louder, but now dropped to a whisper as her eyes got bright with unshed tears, barely visible in the almost total darkness. “I miss my parents. I want to go get them and bring them home. But I can’t seem to.”

Harry sat in silence waiting for her to continue.

“I tried to talk to Ron about it earlier today. All he said about it was that they were okay, so why bother? ‘They’re just Muggles,’ he said. Just Muggles! They’re my parents!” Her voice rose again.

“Shhh,” Harry whispered, taking the distressed girl into a deep, comforting hug. He held her for a few minutes, whispering soothing nonsense as she got her emotions under control.

When she’d calmed a bit she went on, “Then he just reached over and pulled me down for a snog. I swear, Harry, that boy thinks the world revolves around eating and sex. Of course, his hands, as usual, started roaming farther than I wanted and I almost had to hex him to get him to stop. I am beginning to think that all he wants from me is to have a regular shag buddy. Normally, I would have just left by now, even not being sure where to go, but I find myself… almost… oh, I don’t know, but it’s as if I’m too lazy to.

“And then there’s his obsession with sex. I can’t seem to get him to understand that it’s just too soon for me. Yes, we’ve known each other for seven years, but we’ve only been a couple for a few months.” She suddenly blushed deeply, “Not to mention that I’m not too sure how to explain why I have no hymen.” She glanced at Harry, who also blushed and briefly held her tighter as they both remembered the nights spent together after Ron abandoned them.

At first, they had just held each other at night for comfort after the betrayal of their so-called best friend. Then, as they’d accepted Ron’s absence, the combination of normal teenage hormones, their justifiable fear of death, and their honest feelings for each other had brought them together. Slowly and passionately, they’d made love each night, driving each other’s fears and nightmares away, until they collapsed from exhaustion.

After Ron returned, they’d had an automatic unspoken agreement to not say anything about their time together so as to not chase him away again. That agreement, and the fact that they had been able to step back so easily, is what convinced them that they were only loving friends and nothing more.

Hermione gathered her courage and continued, “I’m scared, Harry. What if that potion is still affecting us? What if it’s permanent?”

Harry took a deep breath. “It appears,” he started slowly, “that the Weasleys are sex-crazed fiends by nature. Ginny’s been the same way. Not to mention that she’s changed, really changed. I feel like she’s back to being the fan-girl with a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, but this time, she’s got him and is now the queen of the bloody world. I swear I’ve spent enough on her wardrobe in the last couple of months to buy a nice house. You know that I don’t really care about the money, but now that I think about it….”

“What, Harry?”

“I wonder if she was in on it, too. She’s better at potions than Ron is.”

“True, but even she’s not that good. In fact the only ones in the family that could even attempt something like this would be the twins, or…”

 “Or Molly,” they exclaimed together, suddenly looking at each other in realization.

They sat together for a time in silence, staring across the pond. Harry started speaking softly again, “It all makes sense. All I wanted since I learned of the prophecy was to deal with Tom, and then live peacefully and quietly. I wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow and rebuild the house there. All Ginny wanted to do was find Potter Castle. She believed that as the _Saviour of the Wizarding World_,” he grimaced, “it was my due. It was just like you said about Ron and going to find your parents: I just felt too lazy to do anything about it.” Harry continued to stare off into the dark. “Even now, when we know that something’s wrong, I simply can’t bring myself to do anything about it!”

Harry stood suddenly, startling his contemplative friend. She looked up at him curiously as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

“What?” she asked.”Where? What are you talking about, Harry?”

“Let’s just leave. Now, when they can’t do anything to stop us.” Harry closed his eyes for a long moment, then looked directly at Hermione with determination, “We’re just being used here. Ron has always hated being poor and not having what **he** wants. Ginny’s really not much different. She grew up with this whole Boy-Who-Lived bullshite and has never grown out of it. Then there’s Molly with her ‘One Big Happy Weasley Family’ crap.” He shuddered at the thought. “No, I won’t let them do that to me. To **us**. I love you, Hermione. You’re the only one I seem to be able to trust and you’re the only one I consider family. Please, come with me.”

It was Hermione’s turn to stare off into the waning night. For several minutes her mind raced, considering all that Harry had said. Finally, she turned to him and spoke, “You know, I think I’m beginning to understand just how you’ve felt these past years.” Harry raised an eyebrow in question. “Manipulated, I mean. As much as I hate to say it, in many ways Ron, Ginny, and Molly aren’t that much different than the other Pureblood prats that we’ve had to put up with. In some ways even the Malfoys were better than they are; at least they were open about how they felt. Here, our so-called friends sneak around and plot and plan and take advantage of whoever falls into their traps. Maybe the hat’s not infallible, after all,” she added with a chuckle. Her demeanour turned serious again, “Okay, I’m in.”

“How long will it take you to pack up everything?” Harry asked. “I haven’t taken the time to really unpack, so I’ll only be about 20 minutes.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, how many times am I going to have to ask you this: are you, or are you not, a wizard?”

“Shite.”

“How about we meet back here in about 15 minutes? It’s going to be daylight soon and if we’re going to do this, we definitely need to avoid Molly,” Hermione continued, shaking her head in amusement. “From here we can go through the woods towards the Lovegood’s until we get to the edge of the anti-Apparition charms so we can Apparate. But then, Harry, where could we go?” 

Harry smiled broadly as he held up his right hand with the now visible Potter Family ring. “Potter Castle, of course. I, uh, just... kinda... happened to forget to tell Ginny I’d found it.”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

A short time later, they were walking hand in hand through the woods. The silence between them might have been unnerving to some people, but for them, it was comforting. They were taking the first steps to regaining control of their lives; a control that they hadn’t had for several years. A tingle went through them as they passed the enchantment boundaries. Harry stopped and looked at the girl, no, young woman he’d been through so much with and said, “This should be far enough. Hang on tight.” He wrapped his arm around her, raised his right hand, touched his wand to the ring as he gazed into Hermione’s deep, brown eyes and said, “Time to go home.” A swirl of magic later and they were gone. 

They appeared at the gates of a magnificent 15th century castle as the sun started to rise behind it; giving it an ethereal quality. Harry, not releasing Hermione’s hand, touched the gate and declared, “Hermione Jean Granger has unlimited access to Potter Castle indefinitely.” The raven-haired wizard pushed the gates open and led his best friend onto the property. “Welcome to Potter Castle,” he added with a cheeky grin.

“Harry, this is… this is magnificent,” Hermione whispered in awe. Though it was much smaller, it was even more beautiful and every bit as imposing as Hogwarts itself.

Harry chuckled softly as he put his arm around her. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. When I first came here a few weeks ago, it had the same effect on me. But now it just feels like I belong here… like it’s holding me safe.” He turned and said seriously, “One thing, though, Hermione,” he hesitated, “I have to tell you one thing. Myfamilyhadelvesandsomeofthemarestillhere.” He cringed, expecting the worst.

Hermione started to object, but caught herself and asked gravely, “Are they happy, Harry?”

The young wizard reluctantly answered, “They seem to be. You know that I agree with you on how house-elves should be treated, but they’ve stayed all of these years. They made it clear to me that they wanted nothing more than to see the return of the ‘Master of the House’ and for the Castle to become a home again.” Harry looked down at his shoes as he shifted his weight back and forth uncomfortably.

After a moment, he looked up at Hermione with puppy dog eyes as he continued, “I couldn’t do it, Hermione. I couldn’t insult their dedication by coming in here and offering to free them, and then pay them. In most cases, their whole lives have been dedicated to serving my family. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do it” he tapered off.

Hermione yawned loudly. “Harry, I’m not that worried about house-elves tonight; especially any that you might have as I know that you’ll take care of them. I’m just too tired right now. Can I berate you for it later?” she added with a smile.

The relief from Harry was almost a physical thing. “Nori,” he called. A small, well-dressed elf in a colourful maid’s uniform appeared. “Master Harry,” she cried, “you’re back! And you brought company!”

“Yes, Nori, I’m back. This is Hermione; she’ll be staying with us for a little while. Are any of the bedrooms ready, or will you need a few minutes? We’ve not slept in a while and have had a rather stressful few hours.”

“Rather stressful couple of years,” muttered Hermione darkly.

“The master suite is ready, Master Harry, and we can have any of the guest rooms on the same floor ready in about 15 minutes. Perhaps you and the Mistress would like to have some tea in the meantime?” Nori’s excitement was almost palpable.

 Harry glanced at his sleepy best friend. “That would be, mmmfff…” he was abruptly cut off as Hermione placed a finger across his lips.

 “That won’t be necessary, Nori. I think that we can make do with the one room for now,” Hermione looked carefully at Harry’s questioning face before turning back to Nori. “It’s been a long day, and I think we’d just like to get some rest.” She glanced again at Harry from the corner of her eye.

“Yes, Mistress,” Nori said happily. “If you’ll just leave your things here, I’ll lead you up, and then take care of your belongings for you.” The ecstatic elf turned and headed up the grand staircase to the right.

Hermione took the still curious Harry’s hand in hers and followed Nori’s bouncing form. After the elf showed them the suite with its luxurious amenities and disappeared, Hermione turned to Harry with a strange mixture of sadness and something else in her eyes. “For the last few months, we’ve been lied to, controlled, and deceived. Again. I just want to be able to _feel_. I want to _feel something_ from _me_. Do you understand that, Harry?” 

Taking her hands in his own, he softly responded, “I do. I really do.”

She stepped even closer, placing both of her hands on his chest, caressing gently. “Love me, Harry. Make me feel loved for me again.”

”Always,” he whispered as he brought his lips down to hers. After a few moments, they broke apart; breathing heavily and their eyes were dark with love, wonder, and more than a little bit of lust.

“Take me, Harry. Make love to me. I need… we both need this.”

He swung her into his arms, kicked the door shut, and carried her to the bed.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Harry sighed deeply as he pulled himself out of his memories, gazing over the harsh, yet still beautiful landscape, as its jagged edges softened in the gathering twilight. His life had changed in so many ways since that night, and sitting here on a boulder atop a ridge in the vast desolation of southern Nevada was relaxing. He chuckled to himself as he gazed at that part of the desert known to Muggles as Area 51. “_Aliens,”_ he thought_. “Really, now_;_ the things these Muggles come up with.”_ It wasn’t as if Harry doubted the existence of extraterrestrial life, he just didn’t think that the American Muggle government had any in their possession.  If the US Department of Magic was anything like their British counterpart, they probably wouldn’t care, either, as the aliens, of course, weren’t Purebloods.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. _“I could get used to this.”_ A moment later he sat back up and gazed once again at the dry lake bed in the distance in curiosity. “_What is it that’s so fascinating about that place? It’s almost as if I’m… magically drawn to the place.”_ He shook his head._ “Ridiculous!”_ The argument continued in his head on that topic as he slid down the side of the boulder and leaned sideways against it, still gazing, mostly unseeing, across the darkening vista below.

The young wizard was pulled from his musings by strong, slender arms coming around his waist from behind. Harry straightened up from the boulder and relaxed instantly into the embrace, as there was only one person who could sneak up on him like that._ “Well, two, if I’m honest with myself.”_ He turned slowly about and returned the embrace while delivering a passionate kiss.

“How is it you can always sneak up on me like this?” he asked the slender, blonde-haired young woman he had just been so fervently kissing.

“Are you complaining?” she asked with a sultry grin.

“No, of course not.”

“Maybe I’m just sneaky.” She punctuated this with another deep kiss, causing Harry to not really care anymore.

After several more minutes of intense snogging, Harry pulled slightly back and took a deep breath. “As much fun as this is, your message was rather urgent. Why, exactly, did we need to meet here and why now?” He rested his forehead against hers and continued, “I’m not complaining, just curious.”

Talia slowly closed her eyes with a soft sigh. “I do have a reason for here, and especially now. There’s something I need to tell you, but I’m… uncertain how you’ll react. It’s nothing bad,” she hurriedly reassured her raven-haired companion, “but it _is_ outside anything you’ve ever experienced. And now that the time has come, I’m finding myself afraid.”

At Harry’s perplexed expression, she quickly continued. “I’m afraid that this may change things between us. I never thought that I’d ever become so involved with someone. I’m not talking about just the sex. I never really believed that I could **care** so much, even love someone so much, that I’d have to do this…” Her voice, which was soft to begin with, had slowly faded to a whisper.

“Talia, what…?” She placed a gentle finger on his lips.

“Please, Harry. Just listen.” He nodded his assent. She sat him down on the ground at the foot of the boulder and nestled herself between his outstretched legs, pulling his arms around her, and snuggling back against his chest.

“You’re right,” she finally said. There is a very good reason for right here and a **very** big one for right now. Two reasons, actually. The first is rather selfish: this place holds a special place in my heart. We first... ah... _came together_ here.” She chucked at her own euphemism and unintended double entendre. “See what you’ve done to me? You’ve made me a hopeless romantic. The other reason is down in that valley. I saw you looking there earlier. Haven’t you wondered why that little place has an almost magical attraction?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she continued. “That’s because it does. I know what the Muggles say about it. Area 51. Secret government installation with dead aliens and alien technology. Death to try and enter. Yadda, yadda. The thing is,” she took a deep breath; “both of those statements are at least partially true.” She turned and looked directly into Harry’s emerald green eyes. “I know because I live there. I’m an alien.”

Harry was gobsmacked. _“No, she did **not** say what I think she just said!”_ But what came out of his mouth was, “Huh? Wha…?”

Talia turned in his arms and grabbed the stunned man in a panicky hug, not letting go. “Please, Harry,” she begged with fear bordering on hysteria in her voice, “let me explain. I want, no, I _need _you to understand this. I can’t lose you and I need you to let me explain. In just a little bit, I can even prove part of it, but I’m asking you, I’m _begging_ you to let me explain everything.” She gazed into his eyes, locking them together, “I love you, Harry. I can’t lose you. But I have to share this with you.” Taking her stunned lover’s silence as acquiescence, the woman gave Harry a brief, but loving kiss and assumed her previous position as she continued her story.

“First of all, I have to start with a little history. Haven’t you ever wondered where magic came from? Well, it’s not native to this world. My people come from a planet several hundred light-years from here and had existed for millennia before humans developed any kind of culture. We always were, and still are, explorers. We’d met and studied life forms all over the galaxy and had learned to harness _elu_, the force of life itself, when eventually we found this little planet around an otherwise insignificant star. It was an incredibly beautiful place that reminded us of our Homeworld. Some of us decided to colonize a small portion of the planet and create a research station here, hoping to learn something of our own roots as it seemed to be following a similar development. But things didn’t go as planned.

“A freak, well, I guess ion storm would be the best term, ravaged the ship as it was in orbit preparing to land the colony. They managed to get the colony ship down, more or less where they had planned, but many systems, including long-range communications, were severely damaged.” Talia had been taking occasional glances at Harry during this time, and reassured that he wasn’t going anywhere, continued her story with more confidence.

“Anyhow, the colonists set up their new home as best they could. Yes, much of their equipment had been ruined by either the storm or the rough landing, but their use of _elu _made survival possible. The colonists accepted that they would be stuck here for years without the usual support from the Homeworld. They were able, eventually, to establish satellite colonies all over the planet and continue their research. At one point, they even were able to boost a light speed communications signal to the Homeworld, but that was a long term solution as it would take hundreds of years for the message to arrive.

“To make a long story short, or at least a bit less long, after a few decades of isolation, the colonists started mingling with the resident humans. Friendships and relationships formed, and the first hybrid children were soon born. Much to the amazement of all, the ability to manipulate _elu_ bred true. What you would call the ability to use magic.”

Talia looked at her watch. She then stood up and took Harry’s hand in hers and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the edge of the ridge. “Now, in a couple of minutes, I can prove at least part of the story,” and she started to watch the sky.

Harry, after following her lead, just stood there, dumbfounded. _“Shite, this sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi movie. It’s impossible to believe, but… why, if she were going to lie to me, would she come up with something so ridicu…”_ Harry’s mouth dropped in shock once again as he saw… it. “What the _hell_ is that?” he cried.

The beautiful young alien grinned as she watched her lover’s reaction to the sight before him. “That, my love, is a suborbital shuttle.” Her expression grew more serious as she said, “Harry, I know that you doubted my story, and I don’t blame you. It is pretty weird from your point of view.  But I needed you to know. Most of my people don’t bother to tell their partners because, at this point, we’re as human as you are. We’ve been on this planet a long time. But there are some things happening that you and some few others need to know. But even without that, _I_ needed you to know. For myself. For us.”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

This started the strangest night of Harry Potter’s young life. After watching the shuttle land and disappear, he and Talia went back to the boulder and talked for hours. She told him all that she knew about the Homeworld and the history of her people on this planet. He discovered that most of the magical beasts he’d learned about from Hagrid were hybrids themselves. The original settlers had brought their pets and some livestock along with their families, and those creatures had eventually bred with compatible Earth species. The only exception was the phoenix. They were the only ones who did not have a counterpart on this strange new world, but they had adapted and thrived as well.

Of course, Talia needed some reassurance from Harry that he wasn’t going to leave her over this. The site of their first tryst became a place of _Patronus_-worthy memories as they made slow passionate love over and over until, exhausted, they fell asleep in each other’s arms between the warm, soft blankets Harry had conjured, under the stars.


	2. Chapter 2

The Source of Magic

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never was, and never will be.

**A/N:** This came about as a result of an extended email conversation between Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed) and me. During this exchange, a mild and shy little bunny came my way with an idea. By the time this idea went back and forth a couple of more times, Vern somehow convinced me to give it a try. At that exact moment, one of his vicious plot ‘roos apparated into my family room and er, well, did unspeakable things to that poor little bunny. Be assured that no bunnies or ‘roos were harmed during the writing of this story (as evidenced by the shit-eating grin on the bunny’s face).

This is actually the first fic I ever attempted to write. It was about a year ago and even though I received quite a bit of encouragement from Vern and the members of the HermansTumbledweeds Yahoo! Group, I really didn’t feel like I was ready to attempt this, so it sat in its own dusty corner of my hard drive, forgotten. I ran across it recently and that damned afore-mentioned ‘roo showed back up again, so now I’ve got another damned story going. This one, however, will be taking a back seat to the other two.

Thanks again, as always, to Vern for his excellent suggestions and betaing skills.  Make certain to read his stories if you haven’t already.

 

Chapter 2

Hermione sat staring into the brightly flickering campfire in quiet contemplation, occasionally poking at it with a long, crooked stick. _“It’s nice out here in the Outback. So peaceful and so quiet. And so much to learn and discover.”_ She glanced back to the magical tent she and her fellow student were using as a base for their archaeological search into primitive aboriginal magical culture. _“Jeremy’s been such a dear, too. He still came on this trip with me even though we broke up last month. It would be so easy... No, I can’t do that to him. It’s not fair to him to use him that way just because I’m lonely. I wish Harry was here. As much as I love Australia, it seems so big and empty without him to share it with. I should have let him come with me to get my parents.”_ Her musings took her back to when she was finally reunited with her family.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione impatiently waited under a disillusionment charm just outside the café she had discovered that her parents liked to have lunch in. _“Damn, I didn’t think this would be so hard,”_ she dejectedly mused. Once again, she questioned not only her judgment, but her very sanity at what she had done to them just over a year ago.She watched quietly as her parents ordered their lunch and found a small table near the back. _“Well, it’s now or never.”_

Hermione cancelled the charm, squared her shoulders, and entered the small eatery. As she ordered a light lunch at the counter, the nervous witch cast a silent, wandless _Confundus_ charm on her parents so they’d think that the café was completely full of other patrons. _“I am so going to Hell for this,”_ Hermione fretted to herself, slowly working her way over to her parents’ table, appearing as if she were looking for a seat. After a few moments, she approached them. “May I join you?” she asked. “There don’t seem to be any empty tables.” The young witch snarked at herself, _“Real original there, Hermione.”_

“Of course, Hermione, please sit,” Frank Granger calmly replied.

“Thank you.” As Hermione took her seat, she looked up suddenly, dropping her tray of food the last few inches to the table in shock. “What?”

“What? You don’t think we’d deny our own daughter a seat at our table, do you?” Jane Granger replied with an evil glint in her eyes. “No matter what she may have done to us,” she added under her breath.

“But… but… how…?”

“I think that our _poor little girl_ has succumbed to whatever happened to us,” Frank smirked.

“How… what…?”

“She also seems to have _forgotten_ her basic language skills. Well, she’ll have plenty of time to re-learn it before she meets us at home for dinner, **tonight**,” he added firmly.

Jane grinned at her husband, and then turned to Hermione with a serious expression. “As you seemed to know exactly where we’d be for lunch, I’ll also assume you know where we live?”

Hermione nodded shakily, her mouth still opened wide in astonishment.

Jane reached out with two fingers and gently closed her daughter’s mouth. “We need to get back to the office. We should be home by six, and expect you to join us no later than seven.” She heaved a deep sigh, got up, and stepped around the small table. Jane reached down to her only child and drew her into an embrace. “Hermione,” she started, then hesitated, and pulled back enough to look seriously into Hermione’s still wide eyes. “Don’t misunderstand for a moment that we’re not extremely angry right now, and have been for much longer than you might realize.” Jane’s eyes softened and watered for a moment as she continued, “But also understand that we _do_ still love you and have missed you. That being said, however, you’d better have a damned good explanation ready for us. Tonight!”

Jane pulled the young witch to her feet as Frank came around and joined them in their hug; all three cherishing the moment. As the senior Grangers pulled back, Hermione grabbed them back to her, tears finally overcoming her shock. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed over and over as Frank and Jane stroked her hair and rubbed her back, trying to calm her. Finally, their resolve broke, too, as they both added their tears to their wayward daughter’s.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Eventually, the dentists returned to their office, leaving Hermione deep in thought. She finally turned to her now cold and messy lunch and picked at it as she turned her considerable intellect to this latest puzzle. _“How could they have remembered? I’m not **that** bad at memory charms, am I?”_ Her thoughts continued in that vein for a while as she continued slowly eating. She then began to piece together some of the things that had happened to her since she’d arrived in Australia.

The young brunette had wondered how the Australian Ministry of Magic had known that she’d arrived.  She and Harry had been careful to make it not only an entirely Muggle trip, but a very convoluted one in order to avoid the attention of any magical Ministry during her travels. Many were still not terribly happy with all that had happened in the Magical UK the last few years and didn’t want any escaped Death Eaters or sympathizers to sneak into their territories to hide and possibly create future problems for them.

But they had been there shortly after she cleared customs, almost as if they’d been waiting for her. _“Wait,”_ she realized, _“maybe they **were** waiting for me. Could it be that **they** removed the memory charms? But how would they have known? How **could** they have known?”_ Four Aussie Aurors had been waiting as she went to flag down a cab for her trip to the hotel she and Harry had booked. Hermione shook her head with a slight smile as she remembered arguing with Harry when he wanted to arrange a limo for her. _“Not a good way to sneak into a country,” _she giggled as she lost herself in the memory.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

An hour after being approached by the Aurors, Hermione and her luggage were in an office in the Australian Ministry of Magic building, waiting for an interviewer and the British liaison. Suddenly two men entered the room.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” said a short, grey-haired, rather portly man. “I am Nigel Hawthorne, Liaison between the British and Australian Ministries. This gentleman is John Goodwin, one of their Senior Aurors. Sorry you had to wait so long. We tried to get the Ambassador himself to come along, but with it being a weekend, you see...”

“No worries, Mr Hawthorne,” Hermione interrupted. “I’m more concerned with why I’m even here.”

“So are we, Miss Granger,” John Goodwin entered the conversation. “You are aware that there is a travel restriction for British magical subjects at this time, aren’t you?”

“I understood that the restrictions were for international magical travel to and from Great Britain. I travelled exclusively by Muggle means, other than Apparating to Heathrow. I _am_ a Muggle-born, you know. Muggle means of transport aren’t foreign to me, nor am I opposed to using them. I am, however, still wondering why I’m being detained here. If you would have simply contacted me upon arrival, or even later at my hotel, I would have been more than willing to speak with you. As far as I know, I’ve done nothing to warrant arrest. In fact, as it’s obvious that you were specifically looking for me, I’d like to know why.” The former Gryffindor was getting irritated with this bureaucratic nonsense.

Goodwin and Hawthorne exchanged glances as the British Liaison answered. “Well,” he paused and shot a look at the Auror again, “we received an owl from the British Minister’s office asking us to keep a watch out for you and to inform them if you entered the country in any way. We found it an odd request and thought that we should find out more about the situation before acting.”

“Frankly, we wanted to know if you were a danger to our citizens,” concluded Goodwin. “We felt that if such a request came right after your most recent dark lord’s demise,” he held up one hand as Hermione opened her mouth to object, “there may be such a concern.” Here his serious demeanour softened. “We have not sent any news of your arrival as yet. We couldn’t understand why such an alert was sent out for an Order of Merlin holder to begin with. Frankly, Miss Granger, we hoped you could help us with that issue.”

“May I see the request, please?” Hermione politely asked. Hawthorne silently handed her a single piece of parchment. As she quickly read the letter, her anger became palpable. The signature at the bottom explained everything. _“Percy,” _she screamed in her head._ “Percy Weasley! Percy Fucking Stick-Up-His-Ass Weasley! The Merlin-Be-Damned motherfucking cocksucker! I’m gonna kill the no good son of a fucking…!” _

“Miss Granger! Miss Granger!” Hawthorne and Goodwin finally got her attention. As she looked around, she saw signs of anger-induced accidental magic. Hermione took several deep breaths, and as her temper came back under control, her embarrassment grew. Red-faced, she stammered an apology.

The two men shook their heads at each other and grinned. Hawthorne chuckled, “I’m thinking, John, that she has a pretty good idea what’s going on.”

“I don’t know, Nigel, after looking at my office, she may still be a danger to someone. Though I suspect it’s probably not us,” John smirked, then turned to the obviously still upset young woman. “Care to clue us in?”

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment in thought. _“By the looks of things, I **have** spent **waaayy** too much time with Harry. I knew he was rubbing off on me, but honestly!  Must’ve caught his bad habits somehow.”_ She snickered to herself for a moment at the double entendre, then opened her eyes and turned to the two older men. “First of all, I’d like to again apologize for my loss of control. I’m upset that this has come about as a result of a personal matter and I highly doubt that Kingsley, er, Minister Shacklebolt, is even aware that this was sent.”

“Are you implying that this is a phony request?”

“Certainly not. The request is quite real. It’s just not from the Minister. It’s from the Weasley Family.” She then went into a much abbreviated recounting of her and Harry’s last few weeks in England. “So, apparently, in order to prove his newly restored loyalty to his family, Percy decided to use his position in the Ministry to help his family regain control over us. Oh, damn, I need to contact Harry.”

Goodwin and Hawthorne shared another look. “I don’t know about you, John, but I don’t have anything else for Miss Granger. Personally, I don’t recall that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting the young lady,” Hawthorne laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. “We can, however, try to help you get in touch with Mr. Potter. We haven’t received anything regarding him, though.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. As we were both Muggle-raised, we each have mobiles. I’ll just ring him after we’re done here.”

Goodwin rolled his eyes at the older man’s antics. “Well, I do have a couple of other questions. Firstly, do you want to take any action against Mr… um, Weasley, was it?”

The no-longer-so-bushy-haired beauty thought deeply about this. “No, I don’t think so,” she slowly replied. “We just don’t want to have anything to do with them, nor do we wish to start a war. I’ll ask Harry about it, but I doubt he’ll want to start anything like that, either. All we wanted to do was to be left alone.”

“Fair enough. I agree with Nigel. I think that we can forget about this and let you get on with your life. I do have one last question, however. What is your relationship with Wendell and Monica Wilkins?”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione nervously paced in front of her parents’ house, trying to find the Gryffindor courage that she was supposed to have. _“Must’ve used it all up fighting Tom,” _she considered darkly. She looked at her watch for the umpteenth time. With only two minutes left before her mother’s deadline, Hermione squared her shoulders and walked up the path to the front door as if she was approaching the Veil in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. When she got to the door, she took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock.

The door opened suddenly. “We were wondering how long you were going to stand out here,” Frank chuckled. “And why in God’s name would you even bother to knock?”

“Well,” she faltered, “after everything, I… I wasn’t certain… I guess I was just afraid….”

Frank guided his despondent daughter into the house and pulled her into a strong, fatherly embrace. “No matter what you’ve done,” Frank softly assured the now trembling young witch, “you are still our little girl. Our home, wherever it is,” he pulled back, and lifted Hermione’s face up so he could look into the chocolate brown eyes they shared, “will always be yours. Now that’s quite enough of this. Let’s go see what your mum has burned for us.” He had raised his voice for the last part as they entered the kitchen.

Hermione giggled as a bread roll flew through the air and smacked Frank in the face. Jane came around the table and hugged her daughter. “If your father doesn’t want sleep with the ‘roos tonight, he’ll keep his smart comments to himself. After all, my cooking hasn’t killed him,” she stopped, and glared at her husband. “_Yet_.”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Late that evening, Hermione stepped out into her parents’ back garden and took a deep breath of the clean night air. _“I could get used to living here,” _she reflected. _“I guess I’m going to have to.” _ Saddened at that thought, the young witch drew her mobile telephone out of her pocket and dialled a London number. Even though it had just been that morning, it felt like forever since she’d spoken to him.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, Harry. Did I wake you?”

_“Nah, I’m closer to you now than I was this morning. Decided I didn’t like Los Angeles. It’s too damn busy. Beaches are nice though.”_

Hermione giggled, “I’ll just bet. Couldn’t handle all of those half-naked girls?”

_“Yeah, right,” _Harry snorted, _“bunch of bloody stuck-up bitches is what they are.”_

“So where are you now?”

_“Tokyo. Thank Merlin for translation charms.”_ He paused. _“How’d it go? Did you talk to them, yet?”_

“Yeah.”

_“That doesn’t sound encouraging, love. Was it as bad as you thought it’d be?”_

Hermione sighed before answering, “Actually, in a way it was worse. Harry, they already knew everything. Even before Percy sent that message, they knew.”

_“What? When? How could they? Did the charms fail?”_

“No, it seems that the ICW is even more paranoid than Moody was. They had sent a warning to all member Ministries warning them to watch for all British immigrants, both Muggle and Magical in an effort to keep the Death Eaters contained. When the ‘Wilkins’ showed up out of the blue, the Australian Ministry had them investigated and they found a latent magical signature on them from the memory charms. My signature. They also found the magically hidden letter I’d left for in case I... I didn’t survive.”

_“Shite. I’m sorry, love. How... how’d they take it?”_

“Well, in some ways better than I thought, but in some ways worse. They understand why I did it, especially as the Aussies had been keeping them updated about what’s been happening in England. They wish that I would have just told them straight out, though.”

_“I guess I can understand that. I suppose that’s the better. What’s the worse?”_

“They want me to give up the magical world.”

_“What?”_

“They’re happy here and want to stay. The Aussie Ministry even has plans in place so they can resume their real identities at any time without any trouble. They want me to stay here and go to University. ” Harry heard a sniffle across the line. “They want me to cut myself off from everything and everyone in the magical world.” She chuckled sadly. “I guess I shouldn’t have told them about the Weasleys.”

_”Guess not. I take it your dad wasn’t too happy about that.”_

“No, he wasn’t. We reached a compromise, though. I’m going to see about finishing my magical education here. They even have some magical equivalents to university available. We have an appointment with Nigel Hawthorne, the British Liaison, tomorrow to see about getting my parents’ identities sorted out. We’re going to find out about everything else while we’re there.” Another pause. “Harry, I told them about us.”

_“Oh. I guess they weren’t too thrilled about that.”_

“No, they weren’t. My mum understood, and is actually grateful for the help you gave me getting me out of there. My dad, on the other hand...”

_“Yeah, I can imagine. Do they know you’re talking to me now?”_

“Well, I didn’t tell them that I was going to, but Mum probably sussed it. They wanted me to cut all ties with you, too. I flatly refused.”

_“Hermione, no! They’re your family! They’re much more important than I am!”_

“Harry James Potter! Enough of that! It’s settled. We will stay in touch, but it’ll be awhile before we can see each other again. I need to get them used to the idea that the whole magical world isn’t like it was in England. They, well, mostly my dad, want me to find a nice Muggle boy. I couldn’t do that, Harry, and even if I did, the guy would not only have to accept that I’m a witch, but they’d have to accept that you’re going to be an important part of my life in some way, shape, or form.” Silence came from Harry’s side of the connection. “Harry?”

_“Yes, love?”_

“I love you, you know. We’ll get through this.”

_“I know. I love you, too. It just hurts, you know? I miss you.”_

“I miss you, too, sweetheart. It hurts me, too. After everything we’ve already been through, this crap happens. Promise me we’ll stay in touch just as we planned?” Desperation entered her voice. “Please, Harry? Promise me?”

Harry chuckled sadly,_ “I promise, love. You own way too big a part of my soul; I couldn’t abandon you that way.”_

“It’s getting late here; I should probably get to bed.”

_“Yeah, probably. I’ll make arrangements for you to have a local number for your mobile in the morning. Maybe that’ll appease your dad as at least you can use it to seduce Muggle boys.”_ Hermione could hear the half-hearted smirk in his voice.

“Harry James... You don’t have to do that.”

_“I want to, Hermione.”_

“Thank you, Harry.” A more comfortable silence fell between them again. “I should go. I’ll talk to you again, soon. I promise.”

_“I know, love. I love you, sleep well.”_

“I love you, too, Harry. Bye”

_“Bye.”_

As Hermione turned off her phone and turned to re-enter the house, she saw her mother watching quietly. A shared look was all it took for the strain between them to drop and the mother/daughter bond to begin to reassert itself as they drew each other into a hug as Hermione sobbed quietly.

After a few minutes making comforting mother noises, Jane asked softly, “That was Harry, wasn’t it?” The distraught witch nodded as her tears continued to soak into her mother’s shoulder. “He’s that important to you, then?”

Finally pulling way, Hermione locked her tear-filled, red-rimmed eyes with her mum’s. “Mum... Harry has, at various times, been my best friend, my brother, and my lover. My first and only, in fact. I don’t know where he’ll finally fit into my life, but he **will** always be a big part of it. I could no more give him up than I could you and Daddy. I know it seems like I did that to you, but I did it to protect you, so I wouldn’t have to lose you. I know I risked just that, and it was stupid, but you were potential targets because of my involvement in the war, and the fact that I am a Muggle-born witch. So many Muggle families were completely wiped out because of their magical children and I couldn’t let that happen to you and Daddy, too. I went with Harry for many of the same reasons. And we didn’t even become lovers until much later.”

Understanding finally worked its way through the emotional trauma and confusion the elder Granger woman had experienced for the past year. As her expression softened, she said to her emotional, yet still defiant daughter, “Let’s go inside and have some tea together before bed. You can tell me all about **your** Harry. Not the hero, but the best friend, the brother, and the lover. If he’s that important to you, I’d like to know more about him. We’ll work on your father later.”

With smiles on their faces, the Granger women went back into the house arm-in-arm, knowing that their relationship, though still fragile, was well on its way to a full recovery.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Harry sat back after setting his phone on the table, feeling sad about what his best friend was going through. _“I wonder if it would have been any better if I’d been with her,”_ he thought. _“Nah, probably would have made matters worse. At least I could have been there for her, though.”_ He sat quietly, remembering how lonely it had been since he put her on the plane.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that he needed to leave the UK as well. That decision made, he figured that he’d follow a long-time dream – to randomly travel and experience the world. So, after settling things with Gringotts, who were still rather upset with him, he got both Muggle and Magical passports and started his own “scenic route” trip, finally ending up in New York.

Harry quickly realized that one big city was much like another, so he took the advice of some people he’d met in a tavern in New York’s magical shopping area and headed off to Los Angeles, to spend time relaxing on the beaches as a Muggle. _“Women are easy pickings there, they said,”_ the former seeker recalled the claims of the young wizards in disgust. _“Yeah, right. Those idiots either have never been there, or used the _Imperius_ on them.”_ So, after a couple of days of frustration, he decided to randomly choose his next destination. He enlarged a map of the world he found in his hotel room and threw a conjured dart at it. _“I like this method. I think I’ll use it every time I decide to move on. Next stop, Tokyo!”_

Over the next two years, the map that he took from that hotel room gained quite a few new holes as he travelled the world. He always remembered to call Hermione and send letters and gifts from the often strange and exotic places he discovered. He even sent her some alpaca wool that he got from a crusty old writer and his girlfriend that had befriended him while he was hitch-hiking through rural North Carolina. He made many new friends and even had a couple of lovers in his travels, but he never forgot the one who truly held his heart.

Little did he know how much his life would change when he finally Portkeyed to Las Vegas, Nevada.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione stood and stretched her leg muscles, cramped from sitting on the hard ground for so long, pacing back and forth a bit before resuming her place near the fire, still lost in her reminiscences. She had cried when her parents had said they wanted her to leave the magical world and stay with them in the Muggle world. They enjoyed their new life and wanted her to share it with them. As unwilling as the young genius was to give up who she was, she understood that she had to make up for what she saw as her betrayal of them. They finally reached a compromise. Hermione would stay in Sydney with them and finish her magical education in her parents’ new home.

John Goodwin, after they had all met with Nigel Hawthorne, had started the processes necessary for the Grangers to regain their proper identities and had given them a contact in the Department of Magical Education who was able to solve the educational dilemma. It seemed that there was a magical school just outside of Sydney that offered Master level opportunities – something that was only available in the UK through apprenticeships. Her parents still were hesitant until it was explained that it was a day school, and travel was by a reusable, school-provided Portkey. As they could still see their daughter daily, the dentists reluctantly relented. Hermione’s fame, although she was unhappy about using it, streamlined the process and her various financial rewards (which were being transferred to Gringotts Sydney) were barely touched paying the tuition.

Hermione was ecstatic to find that her new school challenged her more than Hogwarts ever did, especially as she had to “play catch-up” on many Muggle subjects as the Aussies found them to be of equal importance to her magical courses.

 It took some time, but they finally regained the closeness they originally had. Hermione found life in Sydney to be peaceful and much more relaxing than London or at Hogwarts. She had some initial difficulties when she was discovered to be _the_ Hermione Granger, but life eventually settled down when her classmates finally realized just how much she hated her new-found fame. She even managed to have a few relationships (even one with a Muggle) - a couple even becoming lovers - but nothing seemed to work out for long.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

She returned to her present thoughts. Jeremy was a great guy, but he always felt he was playing second fiddle to her relationship with Harry. _“Maybe he is,”_ she mused. _“Nah, besides, Harry has that girl he met in Nevada. At least, from what he says, she doesn’t have a problem with our friendship.”_

Her thoughts wandered back to why she was out here in the first place. She had become interested in the early days of magic use while working towards her Mastery in Arithmancy. As her interest was specifically in Spell-Crafting, the young genius had often wondered how the earliest magical peoples had developed their spells. The Australian Outback was reputed to have traces of some of the earliest magical civilizations known, so it was logical to try and find some records. She and Jeremy, who was studying to be a Magical Archaeologist, had proposed this to their instructors and were given a grant to explore this avenue of research. _“I’m glad he didn’t cancel on me. I can’t think of anybody else I’d want to help me with this. Well... Harry, maybe, but he really wouldn’t be much help with this.” _The lonely witch giggled for a moment as her thoughts became self-indulgent again,_ “But the nights _would_ be much more fun...”_

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

The early morning sun brought Harry slowly back to life. He blinked his way to consciousness as he remembered the previous night. Looking down at Talia’s willowy figure cuddled up against him, he carefully stretched his muscles, sore from sleeping on the ground. He did his best not to wake the young lady who was using his chest as a pillow as he needed time to digest everything he had learned.

_“Shite_,_”_ he thought, _“twenty thousand years of history in a single night. At least the Phys. Ed. class was fun.” _A silly grin formed on his face for a moment, then gradually faded. _“She was right; this is a lot to take in. I really don’t know what to think about all of it. So many preconceptions about magic shot to hell. Magic, hell; how about Life?”_ He looked back at the sleeping blonde. _“I guess I can understand her concern. It’s really hard to reconcile everything she told me last night. The only thing I truly understand is that she said she loves me. I wonder if she realizes she said that. She’s always been so adamant about not being **that way** about things; always afraid of commitment. I guess I can understand why, now.”_

As he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, Harry didn’t notice Talia waking. She simply watched her lover’s various expressions as his thoughts went crazy in an attempt to assimilate all he had learned. _“How did I get myself into this?”_ she wondered._ “How could I allow my feelings…? Damn. I still have to tell him the bad part. We… no, I… got so emotional that I couldn’t finish. And he’s gonna want to tell his friend, too. Though if she’s half of what he says about her, she’s probably already on the list.”_ Talia pondered this for a few moments._ “Actually, she sounds rather tasty. I wonder…?”_

She was interrupted from her pondering by a groan and stretch from her pillow. The young alien/human hybrid turned her gaze to the shaggy black top of said pillow, who smiled back at her and said, “Good morning, love. Sleep well?”

 “Great, until my pillow started moaning and groaning without me,” she replied with an aroused gleam in her eye.

“Damn, you’ve got a one-track mind, don’t you?” Harry chuckled.

“Complaining?”

“Never. I’m just a bit stiff…”

“I noticed,” she purred.

“… _from sleeping on the ground_, you randy little fiend!”

“I can’t help it; I’m not completely human…” She caught herself and thought, _“Oops! I fucked up now.”_

Harry sat straight up for a moment before starting to laugh at Talia’s sudden look of panic. Soon, he was laughing so hard that tears started to flow. Talia watched, concerned for Harry’s mental health. Frightened, she thought, _“I broke him. I just know I did.”_

As Harry’s laughter began to subside, he pulled her into a tender hug. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Her fears evaporated in an instant with those words, embrace, and the passionate kiss that followed.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;


	3. Chapter 3

The Source of Magic

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never was, and never will be.

**A/N:** Many thanks again, as always, to Vern for his excellent suggestions and betaing skills.  Make certain to read his stories if you haven’t already.

 

Chapter 3

_“Jeremy!”_ Hermione’s scream echoed through the dig site they’d been exploring for the last few weeks. The brown-haired half-Aborigine came running, worried about what happened and saw his research partner frantically flicking her wand at the soil around some strange object sticking out of the ground. He realized that she was using the usual spells for gently extracting archaeological artefacts, but at a rate that astounded and, quite frankly, frightened him.

Seeing his rapid approach, she cried with glee, “I found something, help me get it out.”

Relaxing from his momentary fright, he chided her as he caught his breath, “Damn, woman, you scared the shite outta me. Wha’cha got there?” Shaking his head at his ex-lover’s obsessive excitement, he helped her to extricate the thing she found so fascinating.

“I don’t know, but look at it,” she replied, engrossed in the strange object she’d unearthed as she cast spell after spell on it, trying to discover what it was. On the ground before them rested a large, roughly rectangular object that was obviously part of something much larger. It was white and made of some strange substance they couldn’t identify either visually or with the normal detection and identification charms. “And look,” she added excitedly, “there are some markings. Do you recognize them?”

Squatting down to get a better look, Jeremy studied the markings carefully for several minutes. Sitting back on the dirt, he looked up at her and admitted, “I don’t know what they are. I’ve never seen them before. I do know that they don’t even faintly resemble the writings normally associated with this area.” The young man grimaced, knowing that Hermione wouldn’t like this answer.

Staring thoughtfully at the object, she mused, “Well, we could start with the basics.” At that, the scholarly former Gryffindor cast a standard translation charm on the strange item from the past. Not expecting any results, the young mages were shocked to find a translation appear over the original script.

“Atlan?” asked Jeremy, “What the hell does that mean? Did the charm give a source for the translation?”

Looking carefully at the magically-generated image, Hermione turned to her friend in wide-eyed wonder. “J-Jeremy, the s-spell must be wrong. This j-just c-can’t be.” At his inquiring look, she just pointed at the information floating over the artefact, her hand quivering from the shock. Getting to his feet and moving behind her to get a better look, he gasped as he saw the single word: Originators.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Harry once again found himself relaxing on top of the large boulder that had become his favourite place to go for some quiet time to himself. The last several weeks since Talia’s revelations had completely changed his view of life and sometimes he needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city that was hidden in the middle of the dry bed of Groom Lake. It amazed him that, even with magic, a city and spaceport existed right in the midst of one of the most protected and secret places in the Muggle world. A place that was now his home, at least for the time being.

Talia had introduced him to the teeming alien research station the afternoon following his sighting of the shuttle. So much blending of magic and technology was openly displayed that it had left him almost catatonic in his shock and awe. _“Wouldn’t the Purebloods just crap themselves if they saw this,”_ he thought. _“Oh, wait, there **aren’t** any Purebloods,”_ he recalled with malicious glee. _“We’re _all_ part-humans by their own definition. Where’s that bloody Malfoy when I need him? I just hope I get to be the one to tell him.”_

The original settlers had been on their own for almost two millennia before another ship from the Homeworld arrived. The initial distress signal, sent before the forced landing, had been garbled by the ion storm to the point of being unreadable when received. To make matters worse, the transmission that was eventually sent after they had set up the first colony had literally taken centuries to arrive and was almost missed as the signal had been incredibly weak. After attempts by the Homeworld to contact the missing colonists (allowing for the time involved in light-speed communication) failed, it was eventually decided to divert a mission heading to a relatively nearby system to seek the fate of the colonists. They thought it unlikely there would even be surviving descendants after all this time.

Upon their arrival, the presumptive rescue team was amazed to find that their brethren had not only survived, but had flourished and had somehow accomplished much of the original mission brief. Granted, they had only established a part of what had been planned, but they did have major colonies on all of the key land-masses; including a huge metropolis just off the coast of the European continent where the pinnacle of the indigenous civilization at the time seemed to be developing.

This city, the capital of their society and home to over ten thousand aliens, humans, and hybrids, was named in honour of both the Homeworld and their colony ship. They called it Atlantis.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“Harry?” Talia’s soft voice got his attention as he returned to the Groom Lake colony that evening. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, love. I just... well, I still just need to get back to what I know sometimes,” the raven-haired wizard responded thoughtfully. “I know it’s been a while, but sometimes I still feel like I’m living in the middle of an episode of Star Trek. I keep expecting to walk into a room and see some bald chap telling someone to ‘Make it so’. Some of the research labs here even kinda look like the _Enterprise_.”

The blonde hybrid giggled. “You do realize that both Gene Roddenberry and Rick Berman were our people, don’t you?”

“Atlantians or hybrids?”

“Roddenberry’s grandfather and Berman’s, uh, great-great-grandmother, I think, emigrated here from Atlan. Neither joined the human world, but all of their children did. They both spent time here as kids from what I understand. In fact, I heard that Berman visited some of his cousins who live here just last year.” She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I’ve never met either of them, but I know people who have.” A comfortable silence fell between them as, hand-in-hand, they walked towards their comfortable apartment on the outskirts of the colony.

As they approached their home, Talia quietly spoke again. “Harry, I got a message from the Council today. They want to speak with you sometime next week.”

“Did they say what about?”

“No. But... I think... maybe they have something they want you to do for them.”

Harry touched the panel that unlocked and opened the door and drew her inside with him. “Lights,” he commanded the room as the door closed behind them. Releasing her hand, he threw himself into a large, overstuffed armchair that was reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room.

Lowering his face into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, he dryly commented, “Lovely. Just fucking lovely.” He looked up to see a confused and slightly hurt look in his girlfriend’s deep, violet eyes, so he continued, “Sorry. I’m just so tired of being used. I have nothing against the Council, and really don’t mind helping out. Although I can’t imagine what they could need _my_ help with.”

Talia crawled into his lap, and briefly pressed a tender kiss against his lips. “I did ask my grandfather about it, but he just said they’d discuss it with you next week. You’d think having family on the Council would help,” she added with a frown.

Harry chuckled. “It’s never that simple, love.” His demeanour became slightly darker as another thought crossed his mind. “I wonder if this has something to do with this mysterious list I’ve heard about?”

“Harry, you know...”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. You can’t tell me anything about it,” he reassured his lover.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said, as she looked away from him. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you, but it’s...”

He held her close to his chest and gently stroked her back. “It’s okay. I understand. It’s not your secret to tell.”

“It’s more than just that. This affects all of the Atlantians that are here.” She snuggled in closer, relishing the comfort she felt in his arms. “It’s one of the reasons I wasn’t going to tell you about myself,” she continued in a bare whisper. “I didn’t want to give myself to anyone if I couldn’t be completely open with them.” Looking back up into his emerald green eyes, she added with a tiny smile, “But nooooo. You couldn’t be happy with just my body; you just had to find a way into my heart, too.”

“Hey,” he softly exclaimed in feigned outrage, “I’m _very_ happy with your body. Is it my fault that I couldn’t get enough and had to have more?”

Mollified, but not wanting to show it, the part-Atlantian turned herself around so she was straddling the young wizard and asked sarcastically, but still as quietly, “Really, now. Just _very_ happy?”

“_Extremely_ very happy.”

“Prove it, buster.”

And he did, several times, in that very same Gryffindorish armchair.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

After Hermione and Jeremy knew what to look for, they soon found literally hundreds of pieces of that same strange material. Very few had any discernable markings, but it was evident that they had made an important find and needed help. An urgent message sent to Jeremy’s Archaeology professor was enough to bring him to the site. When the old wizard had seen what they’d unearthed, he had immediately called for a full team to explore the location. Their small research project quickly became a major archaeological dig.

Hermione knew that her strengths were more in pure research. When the full team arrived to expand the excavation, she returned to the University of Magic and Technology**,** Sydney to study the strange material and to try to find any information about the mysterious Originators. As much as she wanted to be part of the dig, she knew that she’d be more of an asset in the various labs and libraries that the school boasted. Besides, she admitted to herself that her loneliness was starting to get to her and was afraid that she just might jump her ex-boyfriend. _“Not that he’d mind, I’m sure,”_ she smirked to herself,_ “but I can’t allow him to get his hopes up again. He’s a sweet guy, but something was just missing.”_

The days became weeks as she buried herself in her research. There had been no firm answers from the people studying the strange material; it was as if it couldn’t possibly exist. Finally, they decided to send it to some Muggle experts that knew about the Magical world, hoping they could identify it.

She then decided to dedicate her time to researching these “Originators” and found that there was very little known about these people except the references to them that could be found in the earliest traditions of every known magical culture. It was as if they just... appeared from nowhere.

So deep was she in her research one day, that she failed to notice a young, dark-complexioned man creep up behind her and whisper in her ear, “Hi, baby.”

With instincts honed from teenage years spent in a time of war, she sprang from her chair and drew her vine-wood wand to find a now terrified Jeremy looking cross-eyed at its tip just millimetres from the end of his nose. Drawing a deep breath, she slowly lowered her wand and apologized to her friend.

Holding his hands up in mock-surrender, the relieved wizard reassured her, “No worries, Hermione. I should know better than to sneak up on you.” He then added with a grin, “I still have nightmares about the morning I woke up with your wand three inches up my nose.”

Shaking her head in embarrassment at her memory of the morning after their first night together, she asked, “So what brings you in from the Outback?”

“Just a break from the wilderness. Oh, and I brought you a gift.” At her questioning glare, he rapidly clarified, “No, nothing like that. We found something I thought you’d like a gander at. The tech guys aren’t certain what it is, but it looks kinda like one of those Muggle gadgets you have.” He handed her a small, thin rectangle of that same white material.

As she examined the strange object. Jeremy continued his explanation, “They figured out that if you hold it, and push your magic into it while putting your finger on that depression near the bottom, the front of it lights up, and shows some symbols like the ones you translated at the site. When I saw it, I told them about that thing your parents gave you to keep notes on last Christmas – that, whad’yacallit, er, Hand...  Foot?”

Hermione’s face took on a quizzical look for a moment, and then she chuckled, “You mean my Palm PDA?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Knew it was a body part of some kind. So I, ah, sorta convinced them that you’d be the best one to figure it out.”

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered sarcastically as she followed his instructions and pushed her magic into the strange alien object. _“Hope this doesn’t zap me,”_ she thought as the device activated. _“This is the same kind of damned-fool stunt Harry would pull...  and that I’d bitch at him for. I wonder how he’s doing? I haven’t talked to him in a... What the hell?”_

The alien machine interrupted her thoughts as the top surface lit up, displaying the strange symbols that Jeremy described. Picking her wand up off the table she was working at, she cast the same translation charm as she had before, but nothing happened.

“They tried that, first thing,” her companion explained. “It seems that the magic involved in operating it disrupts any charms cast on it.” Seeing Hermione become totally engrossed in the item, and knowing from their previous relationship that he’d never get the witch’s attention back, he kissed her softly on the top of her head, and quietly left.

Some hours later, Hermione asked, “So, how you turn this thing off? Jeremy?” Looking away from the alien technology for a moment and glancing around the room, she called again, “Jeremy?” Shrugging her shoulders, she returned to her inspection, thinking _“No patience, that one.”_

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Harry woke up to Talia kissing and nibbling his neck. “Get up, sleepy-head. Grandfather sent you a message.”

The word “grandfather” acted like a bucket of cold water to his building ardour. “Wha-?”

“Grandfather would like you to meet him in his office in the Council Centre this morning. You need to get your lazy ass up and motivated. And before you start; we don’t have time.” The naked blonde giggled at the pouting expression that statement elicited. “He needs to see you as soon as you can get there. However,” she added with a sultry smile, “the sooner you see him, the sooner we can get to whatever is in your dirty little mind.” With those words of encouragement, Harry gave her a quick, yet passionate, kiss and shot off to the bathroom to prepare himself for his meeting with the Planetary High Councillor of the Terran Research Colonies.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“Harry Potter to see the Planetary High Councillor. I have an appointment,” Harry announced himself at the security desk in the entrance hall of the Council Centre.

“Certainly, sir. If you’ll follow this gentleman, he’ll guide you to the High Councillor’s office,” replied the large security officer.

“Thank you.” Harry fell in step behind another, equally large, guard.

After traversing what felt like miles of identical corridors and riding innumerable lifts, Harry found himself sitting in front of the leader of all of the Atlantians living on Earth. Even worse, the elderly, well-dressed, gentleman was also Talia’s grandfather.

“Good morning, Harry. It was kind of you to come so quickly.”

“Good morning, sir. It was no problem at all. Talia said that it was important,” Harry courteously responded as he thought wryly,_ “Like I had any real choice in the matter.”_

“She did, did she? Hm. What else did she say? Oh, have you had breakfast, yet?” The old man was unfailingly polite.

“Just a bit of tea, sir. All I know is that there is something the Council would like me to do for them; and she only mentioned that after she spoke with you last week.”

“Hm. Good, good.” The greying Atlantian waved his hand and produced a tray of coffee, tea and various pastries on the corner of his desk. “Help yourself, young man. We’ll be here for a while and I’ve found that hunger and conversation don’t mix well. Oh, and that _is_ a proper British tea. I spent a fair amount of time in London in my younger days and not only understand, but agree with the prejudice against American tea. You might be interested to know that tea is not found on any of the other worlds Atlan trades with and has become a rather valuable commodity in the galaxy. Oh, and while we’re alone, feel free to call me Ecklin.”

With a smile, Harry availed himself of the snacks on the tray, as did Ecklin. The old man’s seemingly rambling speech and pleasant manner was somehow comforting to Harry as the older wizard didn’t seem to be like all of the manipulative idiots and politicians he’d grown up having to deal with. 

The two men spent a pleasant breakfast just getting to know each other, thankfully without Talia’s grandfather showing too much interest in their relationship. They traded stories from their lives, finding common ground in some of their struggles as it turned out that the Atlantians had helped somewhat in local battles with both Grindelwald and Voldemort, as well as most of the previous Dark Lords throughout history.

In fact, Ecklin had been there when Dumbledore had finally defeated and imprisoned Grindelwald. “Albus was a powerful wizard, but a royal fool,” Ecklin commented. “We all tried to convince him to just end Grindelwald’s life, but nooooo, the Great Dumbledore always knew better. Personally, I blame him for a lot of what’s happened in Europe the past few decades. Always trying to redeem the evil, but ignoring the rights of the innocent. I’m happy to see that you survived his nonsense mostly unscathed; and not just for Talia’s sake, either.” Harry coloured just a bit at the Atlantian elder’s gentle sincerity.

Sitting back comfortably in his high-backed office chair, the old man stretched and let out a small burp. Looking intently at his young companion, he became more serious as he said, “You’re a good man, Harry, and as much as I’d like to sit here all day just getting to know you better, we need to get down to business.” Harry sat up straighter in his chair and nodded his agreement.

“Good, good. Now, as you’ve no doubt learned, we Atlantians have been here for millennia and inadvertently fostered the ability to use _elu_ among the indigenous people. Now, it may well have transpired anyway, even without our involvement, but that’s not how it happened, so we, as a people, feel a certain… measure of responsibility in _elu _related matters.

“Now for a bit of history: in any culture – ours included – there have always been those who would use their superior talents and abilities to oppress others. This is simply human – and Atlantian, as well as every other culture’s – nature. In our studies, we’ve discovered that there’s a… pattern, of sorts… to the rise and fall of the darkness in any given culture. This applies, as well, to what you’d call the Muggle World.

“However, our studies have shown that in the last four hundred years, that pattern has… broken, for lack of a better word… in your so-called Magical World. Whereas the dominance of good versus evil is always in balance when looked at over time, this has not been the case on Magical Terra.  Four Hundred years ago, the planet-wide average was two Dark Lords per generation. Two hundred years later, the average increased to twenty per generation. The following hundred years saw that average increase to thirty-two.

“In just the last two generations there have been a total of one hundred twelve across the planet. Europe, as a whole, had nine of them. Oddly enough, two of those were in your home country of England, which has a below average Magical population.

“In comparison; Muggle Terra, even though it, too, has accelerated somewhat, is still within the norm, although just barely. And before you ask: yes, we have allowed for the increase in population.” He paused to allow Harry to absorb this information and was pleasantly surprised to see the younger mage nodding in agreement and understanding.

“Our best minds have been trying to understand why such a small sub-culture of an otherwise unremarkable world would show such a discrepancy. There was only one possible conclusion: the artificial introduction of _elu_ – magic – to your world. Yes, it may have come about sooner or later on its own, but it didn’t. _We_ caused it. In our hubris, our lack of foresight, and yes, our lust, we brought this on your world,” the High Councillor concluded sadly.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concentration as he considered all of this carefully. Slowly, he pondered aloud, “Couldn’t there be some other reason? Maybe we’re just… different? From what I’ve seen just here in the colony, there are so many different kinds of people… Isn’t it possible that we just don’t fit the pattern?”

Nodding, the old man replied, “Possible? Yes, but unlikely to the extreme. This balance has been observed on thousands of different worlds and is the same everywhere. Granted, the period of the pattern varies from culture to culture, but the pattern itself is as absolute as the speed of light or the gravitational constant of the universe. Even in your Muggle World, the pattern still exists and the small discrepancies can easily be attributed to magical forces encroaching on the Muggle World. No, Harry, the results are conclusive. We are at fault and we need to repair the damage.”

The two men sat in contemplative silence as Harry carefully considered Ecklin’s words. He understood why the Atlantians felt responsible for the loss of balance, as he had felt that same sort of responsibility, himself, many times. But he just couldn’t imagine what they could do about it, much less why they would need his help. He decided that there was only one way to find out.

“Ecklin,” he addressed the older man, “I understand why you feel responsible. I don’t agree with it because I really think that we would have screwed things up on our own sooner or later, anyway; but I do understand it. What I don’t understand is what can be done about. Or what I can do to help.”

A fleeting smile passed across the High Councillor’s lips. _“My granddaughter has chosen well,”_ he thought._ “He will be a valuable addition to our people.”_ Taking a deep breath, Ecklin prepared to drop the latest bomb-shell on this young man. “Harry, we need you and several others to act as our ambassadors to the various Magical Governments around the planet. We want to give them some warning before we… correct our mistake. We would like you to appear before the British Wizengamot to present our plan. I will address the International Confederation of Wizards personally. Now, this could be potentially quite dangerous as they won’t like what they hear, especially as they don’t know that we even exist as a separate race. You will, naturally, be accompanied by a cadre of our finest troops.”

“Okay, but what will I be telling them?”

“First of all, you’ll need to reveal our existence. There are those in the very highest levels of the Confederation who know about us, but almost no one on the regional levels – most certainly no Muggles do. Dumbledore did, but I find it unlikely he told anybody on the Wizengamot. I think he kept secrets from himself.”

Harry chuckled at that, “Yeah, probably. I know he kept enough of them from me. So far, I’m okay with this. I can see where the knowledge that none of them are as ‘pure’ as they seem to think could be dangerous to the messenger. To be honest, I’m kinda glad to be the one to tell them.” He remembered thinking about his wish to tell Malfoy back when Talia had told him her story. _“I guess some wishes do come true,”_ he smiled inwardly.

A matching smile briefly crossed Ecklin’s now tired-seeming face. “I understand, my young friend. However, that’s not the dangerous information.” He slid a small, white, metallic rectangle across his desk. “Do you know what this object is?”

“Yeah, it’s one of those data pad things I’ve seen people working with. I don’t know how to use it, though.” He picked it up and turned it over, trying to figure out how to work it.

“It’s actually quite simple. You see that depression near the edge? Hold it with that depression at the bottom, facing you.” Harry did so. “Now, since this is a special model for off-colony use, it has some security. Most of these units can be used by anyone, but as you’ll be taking it out into the greater world, we don’t want anyone else to inadvertently access it. Place your thumb on the depression and think your full name while pushing some of your _elu_ into it. This will allow it to be used only by you.” Harry complied and was rewarded by a soft glow emanating from the front of the device for several seconds before fading away.

“Well done, Harry. Now, just think about what you want to know as you push _elu_ into it. In your case, it will be displayed in English as it’s keyed to you. If you ever need to use an unsecured unit, as you concentrate on your request, add the request that it be in English, or it will default to Atlantian. You can even ask it how to operate it, if you ever need some guidance.” Harry did so, and was rewarded with a complete tutorial in English.

“Will this even show me the plan?” The raven-haired wizard studied the display on the strange device.

“Yes, but please don’t access it until after you appear before the full Council tomorrow and officially accept this post.”

“Okay, but I’d kinda like to know what I’m agreeing to.”

“I understand, and I’d be worried if you didn’t.” The old mage seemed even more tired as he paused. “Harry, we’ve spent nearly a century trying to find a better way to repair the damage we’ve caused. Unfortunately, we’ve only been able to come up with one that is certain to work. Anything else we could come up with had an equal chance of making things worse.” He took a deep breath and locked his gaze with Harry’s. “We will be removing the ability to use _elu_ from everyone on the planet.”

“What?”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione sat back from going over her notes on the Originators that she kept on her PDA. _“This is quite a useful thing to have,”_ she mused. She glanced at the similar, yet alien, device lying on the back corner of her desk. Setting hers down carefully on its charging cradle, she picked up the alien machine and held it carefully, her thumb on that odd imperfection in the otherwise smooth surface. She focussed her magic to activate the device as she absently wished that she knew how to use it and that it displayed in at least some language she understood.

The former Gryffindor glanced down as the front took on the usual soft glow of activation. To her surprise, she could read the words at the top, which read ‘Infopadd Tutorial Version 12’. Excitedly, she read through the pages of smoothly scrolling text. When she finished, she sat back and thought in outrage,_ “All I had to do was **wish** I could read the fucking thing?”_ As she struggled to regain control of the sudden emotional need to throw the machine across the room, the young genius rose from her desk and got comfortable in the overstuffed armchair in the corner of her bedroom, ready for a long night of research into the vast information contained in the slim, white box.

It didn’t take long for the analytically-minded witch to master the device and be able to call up whatever data she required. _“Amazing,”_ she thought, somewhat sarcastically, “_A magical device that’s logically designed. If there was any doubt that it was extra-terrestrial in origin, this would be enough proof for me.”_  She sat in that chair studying things that she’d never realized were possible until, just before sunrise, she dozed off. As the infopadd slipped from her hand to fall on her lap, it powered itself down just as it displayed a page titled ‘The Redemption Plan’.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;


	4. Chapter 4

The Source of Magic

by

grenouille

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never was, and never will be.

**A/N:** Many thanks again, as always, to Vern (aka Herman Tumbleweed) for his excellent suggestions and betaing skills. Make certain to read his stories if you haven’t already.

**A/N2: **Yeah, I know, it’s been far, far too long for an update, but the muse that was helping with this story seems to have fallen into another dimension – or is out on a bender to beat all benders. I’ve had to drag every word out, kicking and screaming, without her help _&lt;flips said muse the finger&gt;_. Hopefully, this will still be enjoyable and will attract the attention of another lovely one who will kindly offer her assistance. If not, well, I’ll just have to plod on by myself. (Beta note: He's not the only one; mine followed me to Aruba on holiday a couple years ago, and hasn't come back yet… Seems she found a great beach party and a couple of boyfriends and/or girlfriends. Although, one had sneaked in the past couple days so look for a new story soon, hopefully.)

 

Chapter 4

Talia once again found Harry sitting stiffly on top of the boulder he often retreated to. Climbing up and sitting beside him, she rested her head on his shoulder, her arms snaking around his waist in an attempt to comfort him.

Harry had wandered aimlessly through and around the colony after leaving Ecklin’s office that afternoon, mind awhirl with the implications of the Atlantians’ plans. He was stunned at the harshness of what the aliens were planning, but couldn’t, in all honesty, find fault with their reasons. He just wished that there was a better way. After several hours of milling around, deep in thought (and more than a little shock), he found himself on his boulder with his beautiful, blonde lover beside him, not remembering how he got there, let alone in his current rather comfortable position. Heaving a great sigh, he relaxed against the young part-alien, letting her presence wash across his frayed emotions, restoring a sense of calm to his frazzled nerves.

Talia felt the change in Harry’s demeanour and slowly raised her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before returning to her previous position, but snuggled in more closely this time. “Are you feeling better, now?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He reached around and drew her on to his lap, burying his faced in her long, soft hair. “Do – do you know what’s happening?” he muttered without moving his face from her blonde locks.

“Yeah,” she breathed softly in reply.

“What do you think about it?”

Talia took a deep breath, carefully considering her answer. Having been raised in both societies, she had a somewhat unique perspective, but was still afraid of alienating the raven-haired wizard who had, despite her best efforts, worked his way into her heart. Deciding on complete, open honesty, she shifted herself so that she was straddling Harry’s waist. “Actually, I’m sort of conflicted about it.”

Not expecting that answer, Harry’s eyebrows rose as his green eyes searched her deep violet ones. He wasn’t certain what he was looking for, but seemed reassured, nonetheless. He drew her closer to himself, pressing her firm breasts snugly against his chest, relishing the sense of security and comfort.

Relaxing in his embrace, Talia softly explained, “I was raised in both worlds, Harry. My parents were both half human, and my father worked in the American Magical Government for many years. We lived in both Muggle and Magical homes at different times of my life**,** and I attended the Rocky Mountain School of Magic. On weekends and holidays I learned the Atlantian ways of _elu_ and our history and culture. I’m truly a product of both environments. They both, of course**,** have their pros and cons.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Believe me; you _don’t_ want to hear Atlantian music.” They both laughed at that pronouncement.

“Anyway, I understand the reasons for The Plan, and I agree with them whole-heartedly. I like to think of it as, ‘We broke it, so we gotta fix it.’ I just wish that there was a better way to do it. I have many friends here that aren’t on The List, and I really feel badly for them. Their lives are going to become so much harder…” She buried her face in her lover’s chest and started to softly weep. “I-I know that it’s n-necessary… I truly b-believe it’s necessary, in fact, b-but that doesn’t mean th-that I like it.”

The young wizard held her tightly as he stroked her soft hair in an attempt to comfort her. “I got the impression from your grandfather that no-one likes this idea.”

“No, nobody does, but it’s the best we’ve been able to come up with. Have they given you the details, yet?”

“No. They gave me an infopadd that can access it, but made me promise not to look until I formally meet with the Council tomorrow.”

“I thought that’s what you were doing today?”

“No, I just met with Ecklin. He told me what was going on, but I have to meet with the full Council tomorrow and formally accept my, uhm, ambassadorship, I guess, before I’m allowed to know everything.”

Her head shot up and violet locked with green as her voice took on a hard edge. “Harry, what _else_ did you and Grandfather talk about?”

Harry swallowed as he registered her change in mood. “Well, we just talked. You know, got to know each other over tea and pastries.”

“Oh? What else?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Nothing bad,” Harry sighed. “Really, love, we mostly just talked about our lives and things we’ve seen and done and been through. A little bit about Atlantian involvement with some of the worst Dark Lords. He’s a great guy and we seemed to hit it off pretty well.”

Talia cocked her head to the side in confusion. “That’s it? Nothing about us? No threats? No warnings?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “Nope. He did say that he was proud of you, though. Repeatedly,” he added wryly.

With a sharp squee, Talia pulled her whole body even more firmly against his, wriggling excitedly, incidentally causing certain pleasant and insistent reactions. “Do you know what this means? He approves, Harry, he approves!” This cry was accompanied by more excited wiggling and grinding.

Finding it difficult to not react and tear her clothes off right then and there (possibly resulting in their deaths as the boulder was on the edge of a cliff), Harry forced out, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Because he didn’t threaten your health or even your life. Or worse, send you off-planet to a research station in the middle of a black hole.” She smashed her mouth to his, her tongue parting his lips as her hands started to wander.

_“Okay,”_ Harry thought, _“I suppose it _is_ a good thing, then. Only one thing to do, I guess…”_ He Apparated them both, tongues still battling, to their bedroom in the colony and proceeded to tear both their clothes off and celebrate properly well into the night.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“Arrrrgh. Mmmmphfffffff.” Hermione stretched painfully as she woke up late the next morning. Looking to her bedside clock, she was relieved that it was the weekend and consequently had no classes. She sat up and rolled her neck around, realizing that comfort charms only worked so well when you fell asleep reading.

She sat bolt upright as her head cleared at the sudden recollection of the previous night’s discoveries. _“There are aliens among us,”_ she thought in awe. _“They’ve been here since before we had any sort of organized civilization, yet they’ve stayed hidden all these millennia. I wonder if they really _are_ still around?”_ The wavy-haired witch looked around in a sudden panic and sighed in relief as she found the ancient infopadd on the floor. _“Amazing how it still works after all this time.” _Finally, she dragged herself out of the chair and headed to the kitchen for a wake-up cup of tea, infopadd in hand and still wearing the previous day’s clothes.

Hermione replied to her parents’ amused greetings with a mumbled groan as she poured herself some tea and plopped down at the table. She set the infopadd down and took a deep whiff of the fragrant brew before sipping carefully at the hot liquid.

“Long night, sweetheart?” asked Frank as he and Jane noticed their daughter’s dishevelled state and abnormally grumpy manner. They both chuckled at their offspring's grunted reply.

As the senior Grangers watched the cranky witch slowly return to the land of the living, Jane noticed the white object on the table. “Hermione,” she asked, “what happened to your PDA?” At Hermione’s questioning look, she continued, “It’s white, when, as I recall, it was more of a silvery-grey. Did you change the colour somehow? I thought magic would mess up electronics.”

Her daughter’s look of confusion turned to panic as her eyes fell on the white infopadd at her elbow. Thinking quickly, she drew her wand and hurriedly cast several high-powered privacy charms around the dining room. Her parents glanced at each other in concern before returning their attention to their child.

After completing her charms work, Hermione faced Frank and Jane and began seriously, “Okay, now what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room.” Seeing the concern form on her parents’ faces, she added, “It’s nothing dangerous, just, ah, rather sensitive.” After seeing them exchange their normal silent conversation, and anticipating their agreement, Hermione continued with her explanation. “You remember that Jeremy and I went into the Outback for a project and I came back early because we found something, er, beyond what was expected and the University sent out some experts to continue our research, right?”

They nodded their agreement.

“Okay, while we were out there, we found some pieces of this same,” she held up the infopadd for a moment, “white material; some of it with markings. We managed to translate some of them, and they made reference to a civilization known to magical culture as The Originators.” She paused for a moment, brows furrowed as she thought deeply, carefully considering her explanation. “Think of them like the Federation from Star Trek. They travelled the galaxy exploring and landed here to study us, except, apparently, they became stranded and made their lives here. Of course, to magical culture, they are just a name lost to time.”

She once again held up the infopadd. “Jeremy brought this to me a few days ago. It was found at the site, but they couldn’t figure out what it did, except that it would light up and display some unknown text when magic touched it. He brought it to me because it reminded him of my PDA, although he couldn’t remember what it was called.” Hermione chuckled fondly at the memory.

“What’s so funny about that?” Jane asked.

Collecting herself, Hermione explained between giggles, “When he brought it to me, he told me how he recognized the similarity to my Palm, but thought it was a… oh, how did he put it? A Hand or a Foot, that was it. When I reminded him that it was Palm, he said that he knew it was a body part.”

Both Granger parents laughed at this as Jane commented, “I thought you said that the Magicals were more tech-savvy here.”

“They are, but honestly, that doesn’t really say very much.”

Frank was closely scrutinising the alien device. “What does it do, sweetheart? I can’t even find the on switch.”

“Here, Dad, let me show you.” The witch took the device from her father and activated it before handing it back.

The middle-aged dentist took it back and examined it once again. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the alien display. “How can you read this? Is this some of those, uhm, Ancient Runes you studied at Hogwarts?”

“No, Dad, that’s the native language of the people who landed here. Magical Culture refers to them as ‘The Originators’. They call themselves ‘Atlantians’.” She took it back from him, and concentrated for a moment before handing it back. “Here, try it now.”

Recovering the strange object, he examined the translated display as his daughter continued her explanation, “From what I’ve been able to read, it’s called an infopadd. The Atlantians used them as some sort of data retrieval device, although I don’t know if the data is stored locally or if it’s transmitted from somewhere else.” She shook her head tiredly as she ran her fingers through her unbrushed hair, wincing in pain at the pulls from the tangles. “Once I figured out how to use it, I was reading from it most of the night. There’s a phenomenal amount of information available here, including twenty thousand years worth of detailed history regarding their stay on this planet. I didn’t get much past their landing and attempts to contact their home planet, but from what I gathered through randomly looking at their history, there may still be some of them here.”

Her parents stared at her in shock. “Don’t you think,” Frank began slowly his voice cracking slightly at the enormity of Hermione’s discovery and subsequent revelations, “that maybe you should tell somebody about this?”

She shook her head, “No, at least not without finding out what else is on here. For all we know, they want to just live in peace like the rest of us.” She sighed deeply. “I have a unique perspective on the situation. I know what it’s like to be judged based on things beyond your control. I was a witch born to non-magical parents in a world run by Pureblood bigots who felt that I was less than pond-scum because of my lack of magical parents.” She glared at her elders as she continued in irritation, “You may recall just how that ended up – betrayed by those we thought of as friends because they thought that was all we were worth. They even did it to Harry and his father was a Pureblood of an old and respected family, but his mother was a Muggleborn like me, which still made him less in their eyes. I won’t act without more information – something you both taught me from a young age. If they are dangerous, then I’ll try to figure out whom to inform and do so. But I will not be a party to a group being subjected to the same bigoted crap I was.” The slam of her fist against the table accompanied the passion in her eyes as her voice got noticeably louder at the end of her speech.

Suddenly, she realized who she had been ranting at, and with an embarrassed flush, she retrieved the infopadd from Frank and poured herself a fresh cup of tea. Looking back at her parents, she said quietly, “I’m sorry for that, Dad… Mum, but I feel very strongly about this. I’m not even planning on telling anyone at the university about it without having a lot more answers first. Anyway, I have some more reading to do. I’ll be out back if you need me.” She quickly made her way out the back door.

Frank and Jane looked at each other as Hermione left the room. “Well, that was unexpected all around. I didn’t realize things were that bad back home,” Frank said thoughtfully. “What do you think we should do?”

Jane stared at her cold tea for a long moment before answering, “Nothing. I think that she’s got the right of it. She told me about some of the shite she had to take from those… people.” Seeing the beginnings of outrage from her husband, she continued, “Hermione was afraid you’d take her out of that world. I know you still have reservations about her being involved in the Magical World, but it has been better here than in England, right?”

Frank grumbled a faint affirmative.

Jane reached across and took her husband’s hand. “Hermione has grown up to be a strong, independent woman with a very deep-seated sense of what’s right and wrong – just as we wanted her to.” Frank just sat there, looking lost.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him, patting his hand, “she’ll still need her daddy.”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Ecklin stormed into the security section of the Planetary Computer Control Centre located deep beneath the dry bed of Groom Lake. He was not happy being called anywhere at 4 AM. “What’s so damned important?” he snapped at the room at large while heading for the coffee pot in the corner of the room.

“High Councillor,” a lean Atlantian began nervously as the elder man took his first sip of the hot coffee, “we’ve had an unusual breach in the DataNet.”

“You called me in at this hour for that? What the hell is Security for?”

“Sir,” a senior officer approached. “It’s the nature of the breach that concerns us. All the data that was accessed was purely historical in nature. Just details of our ancestors’ arrival and the founding of the first colonies.”

Ecklin’s face took on a surprised expression. “That _is_ strange. What else?”

“Well, the strangest part is the ID of the requesting unit. The UnitID was number 403.”

“So?” the older wizard prompted in tired frustration.

“Unit 403 was issued to the Atlantis before she left the Homeworld on her mission here.” He paused for emphasis. “That infopadd is twenty thousand years old and was reported as never having been recovered from the wreckage.”

The High Councillor moved unsteadily to a conveniently empty chair and sat heavily, spilling some of his coffee in the process. He cleaned his mess with an absent wave of his hand, and thought carefully about this news. “What else do we know about this breach?”

“We’ve determined that the infopadd is currently just outside of Sydney, Australia and we managed to get a reading of the magical signature of the primary user.”

“Primary user? There’ve been more than one?”

“Yes, sir. After the main breach, we checked the logs more closely and have discovered that it has been activated a large number of times over the last several days, but nothing was accessed. It seems that there has been some archaeological research being done in the Australian Outback by some students of the University of Magic and Technology Sydney and we think that someone has discovered some of the wreckage of the Atlantis that was not recovered at the time. It has since become a major dig.”

Ecklin let out a deep breath. “Wonderful, just wonderful,” he muttered, his voice laced heavily with sarcasm. “What are the chances of discovery?”

“Very little, sir. The magical Terrans don’t have the technological background to understand it and the current non-magical technology isn’t advanced enough to figure it out.”

“If that’s the case, how did someone access the DataNet?”

“I suspect that a highly intelligent magical Terran accidently stumbled into the system. The first thing they accessed was the tutorial.” He shrugged. “It _is_ an unsecured unit, after all.”

The old Atlantian lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of one hand. “Do we know anything about the primary user?” he asked tiredly.

The security officer looked to his own infopadd. “Yes, sir. It is a young witch born to non-magical humans named Hermione Granger. She’s…”

Ecklin’s head shot up. “Granger, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me see that.” The officer handed his superior the infopadd he was using. Ecklin scanned the first few screens rapidly, then returned it to the officer with a chuckle. “Give her, and only her, access to everything except The Plan, but monitor her activity and keep me apprised.”

“Sir?” the officer asked in shock.

“Just do it. And get a message to my granddaughter and her boyfriend. I need to see them in my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” The younger Atlantian scurried away to tend to the High Councillor’s tasks.

The old alien wizard hauled himself out of the chair and made his way to his office in the Council Centre in the middle of the colony, wondering if it was really wise to try and wake Talia up at this hour.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione stepped out of the shower, feeling reasonably human again after quickly realizing that she needed to be fully awake before tackling the infopadd once more. A quick hair care charm that one of her first friends in Australia had taught her quickly had her much-better-but-still-bushy mess dry and tidy. The witch took a moment to reminisce about her friend.

Lina was a beautiful Maori girl who had an even bushier head of hair than Hermione did and was a great help in the British witch’s adjustment to life down under. They had formed a close friendship which culminated in a brief, but passionate affair the summer before Hermione entered the University. They had still remained friends, often exchanging letters and phone calls, even after Lina returned to New Zealand to help with her family’s business.

Shaking her head from the memories, which were not helping her loneliness at all, Hermione grabbed the infopadd and returned to the back garden with another cup of tea to try and figure out if aliens really were still among us.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“Good morning, sunshine,” Ecklin chuckled as a grumpy and dishevelled Talia stumbled into his office, followed by a slightly less grumpy, but equally dishevelled Harry. “Help yourselves.” He gestured to the platter of coffee, tea**,** and pastries on his desk.

“Yeahrightgdming,” Talia replied through a big swallow of strong coffee. “What in the hell is so important that we had to get up at this ungodly hour?”

Still chuckling, the old man turned to his other young visitor. “How do you deal with this every morning, Harry? I’d have strangled her by now.”

Swallowing the last of his first cup of tea and pouring another, Harry answered slowly, “I try not to wake her at five in the morning.” He glanced at her cautiously, yet affectionately. “I’ve learned to value my life.”

“And other things,” muttered his still grumpy lover. She turned to her grandfather. “So what’s the big emergency?”

Ecklin looked up from the croissant that he was smothering with far too much fresh butter to be healthy. “Harry, what was your friend’s name again? The one who moved to Australia?”

Confused by the seeming non sequitur, Harry answered, “Hermione. Hermione Granger. Why?”

“And she lives where..?”

“Sydney, with her parents.”

Talia, still not awake enough to have even the slightest semblance of patience, interrupted moodily, “What does Harry’s old friend have to do with getting us up at this hour? I thought there was an emergency going on.”

“Drink some more coffee, sweetheart,” Ecklin chuckled before turning back to Harry. “Now, Harry, tell me this: do you trust her?”

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione, after reading page after page of Atlantian history, realized that they were still living among the human residents of the planet. Then it hit her. “_There **are** no Purebloods!_” she thought. “_We’re all part alien._” She giggled to herself. “_I wish I could see the look on those bigoted bastards’ faces if they ever find out. But how to find them…_” She continued her search of the seemingly never-ending Atlantian computer system.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“Of course I do. I trust her with my life. Hell, I’d trust her with Talia’s. We’ve been through too much together to do otherwise.”

“Can she keep a secret? For example, if she were to find out about The Plan, would she keep quiet about it?”

Harry started to automatically defend his friend, but hesitated. Hermione would despise the plan**,** as she would see it as interfering with others’ rights. But then, she would also see the logic in it as well. “I… I think so, sir… at least if I asked her to. I know that she wouldn’t approve of it, though.” He chuckled weakly, “She’d probably make it her personal mission to talk the Council out of it.”

Ecklin snorted. “And we’d be grateful for a viable alternative, if she could come up with one. Do you know what she’s been doing lately?”

Harry, sensing Talia’s impatience rising again, stalled by swallowing the rest of his tea and pouring some more. “I haven’t spoken with her in a while, so I’m not certain. Why is this so important?”

“Please, just humour me for a few more moments.”

“Well, the last time I spoke with her, she said that she was going into the Outback with another student to try and find evidence of early Aborigine magic or something. I guess that the other student is studying Magical Archaeology and they were going to try to, erm, dig something up.”

Talia and Ecklin groaned in unison. “Don’t try to be funny this early, dear,” Talia giggled grumpily.

They were interrupted by a soft chime which emanated from Ecklin’s desk. Touching a faint red light which had appeared with the sound, he responded, “Yes?”

“Sir,” the voice of the senior data security officer sounded in the room, “you wanted to be kept apprised of the young lady’s access.”

“Go ahead.”

“She accessed the DataNet again a short time ago, studying more recent history. Just a few minutes ago, she started running a series of detailed searches which indicate that she’s actively seeking us out. Should I allow her to continue?”

“Yes. Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ecklin closed the connection and looked up at Harry, surprised to see an amused smirk on the young wizard’s face. “So what has Hermione done now?” Harry asked.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“_That’s it! I’ve found it._” The once bushy-haired scholar mused.“_Damn, they’re everywhere. They even have cities… cities completely hidden from the rest of us, Muggle and Wizard alike. Now… where’s their capitol? That figures, Groom Lake in Nevada. The infamous Area 51. That’s just too funny. I need to tell Harry… oh, shit! Nevada! Harry! I gotta call Harry!_” She darted back into house to retrieve her mobile, certain that Harry had once again gotten himself into trouble.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

“What makes you say that?” the elderly man asked with an amused grin.

“I’ve known Hermione since we were eleven years old. Trust me, if there’s an untapped source of knowledge somewhere, she’ll find it and do her best to read the whole damned thing. We had a professor during our third year at Hogwarts that used to call her ‘The Smartest Witch of Her Age’… and for good reason.”

Chuckling, Ecklin finally started the explanation they’d been waiting for. “Very early this morning, while you two were still _sleeping_,” he shot the pair of lovers a feigned glare, “someone breached our computer network. After a bit of research, Security determined that your friend had gotten her hands on an infopadd and was studying Atlantian history.

“From what we can only surmise, when she and her friend were ‘digging things up’, as you so aptly put it, they ran across some wreckage from the original colony ship that had never been recovered. When they realized what they’d found, professionals were sent out from the university and it became a full scale dig. At some point, the infopadd was discovered and it was eventually given to Hermione, who managed to figure out how to use it.”

The High Councillor grew more serious. “This is why I asked if you trust her, Harry. We need to know if there’s any risk of exposure. In fact, as your first duty as Ambassador,” he added with a smirk of his own, “you need to contact her and…”

A warbling sound came from Harry’s pocket. As Harry pulled his mobile phone out, he laughed and said, “I doubt I’ll need to contact her.” Without looking at the CallerID, he answered, “Hello, Hermione.”

_“Harry! Are you okay?”_

“Of course, Hermione, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked with a stifled chuckle.

_“Well… I’ve learned something recently that I **really** need to talk to you about.”_ There was a noticeable pause. _“Oh wait, it’s still pretty early there, isn’t it? I-I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”_

“No, I’ve been awake for a while. It seems that some bushy-haired know-it-all breached an alien computer system. They seemed to think I might be able to help with that.”

_“That’s what I wanted to… wait a damned minute! Harry James Potter, what the hell’s going on?”_

Harry couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Calm down, love. I can explain everything. Oh, wait a sec…” He looked to Ecklin who was whispering, “See if she can get away for a few days.”

“Hey, can you get away for a while? It would be better to explain this to you in person.”

_“I… I guess I could… but, Harry… how do you know about this? And why didn’t you tell me?”_

Harry sighed, “First of all, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

_“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean…”_

“It’s okay, Hermione, really. I know how you are…”

_“Prat,”_ she laughed into the phone. _“And the other thing?”_

“Well… Talia’s grandfather is the Planetary High Councillor and I’m in his office right now.”

_“Oh. I guess I’ll probably get to meet her, too, then.”_

“Yeah, especially as you’ve been invited to visit by her grandfather.”

_“Ah, yeah… I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”_

“No more than we ever got into before.”

_“That’s not very reassuring, you know.”_

“Sorry. Everything’s okay, though. I’ll call you back later when I have the details, okay?”

_“Okay. I suppose I should quit playing with the infopadd, then.”_

“I don’t think they’d mind if you kept using the ‘padd.” He looked at Ecklin for approval. Receiving a nod of the head, he reassured the bookworm. “Yeah, Ecklin said it’s okay to use it. Just don’t try to free the house-elves with it, okay?”

_“Remind me why we’re even friends again?”_

“’Cause I’m so loveable?”

_“Yeah, right,”_ she replied snarkily. _“I do love you, Harry.”_

“I love you, too. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

_“Okay. Bye.”_

“Bye.” Harry turned to the Atlantians. “Well, that was easy.”

They all laughed and Talia added, “I didn’t even have to hear her side of the conversation to know that I’m gonna love her.”

Harry turned to Ecklin with panic in his eyes. “I’m in deep shite, aren’t I?”

“I would say so, my boy. Now, let’s make the plans for Hermione’s visit. Then we have to get you dressed and ready to meet with the Council. You still need to officially accept your new job, remember?”

Harry just groaned as he allowed his head to thump against Ecklin’s desk. So much for a peaceful day.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione ended the call and sat back in her lounger, chuckling to herself that Harry seemed to already be in the thick of it, as usual. Her humour faded as she realized that she’d have to tell her parents that she was leaving for a while. Even worse as far as her father was concerned – she was leaving to see Harry.

“_Better get it over with,_” she thought as she slowly got out of the chair and went in search of the elder Grangers.

To say that Frank was upset was a gross understatement.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

The next day, Hermione was pacing in the sitting room of her parents’ home while she waited for whoever was coming to take her to Groom Lake. Her parents were waiting with her, not at all happy with the situation.

After getting off the phone with Harry the previous day, she had immediately recounted the conversation to Frank and Jane. A loud argument had ensued, as the elder Grangers were afraid that, once again, they’d be losing their daughter to another world that they could have no part of.

Hermione had done her best to reassure them that she wasn’t abandoning them again and that she would return soon. Finally, it took Ecklin himself speaking to them on the phone and his promise of her safe return within a week to mollify them. They were still unhappy with the situation – Frank especially – but had to admit that this was an historic opportunity for his no-longer-so-little girl.

“Daddy, it will be okay. I’ll only be gone a few days.” Hermione tried to reassure her father for what seemed to be the millionth time as her mother went to answer the knock at the front door.

Frank drew his daughter down next to him on the couch and into a deep hug. “I’m just worried about you, sweetie. It seems that every time you get involved with this Potter character… bad things happen.”

Hermione returned the embrace. “Dad, this is different. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“That she will, Dr Granger,” came the voice of a lean man in a Muggle business suit entering the room behind Jane. “In fact, she’ll be in one of the safest places on the planet. My name is Tardok, and I’m the Australian envoy for the Atlantian Terran Research Colony.” He held his hand out to the worried dentist.

Frank stood and shook the alien’s hand. “I’m sorry; it’s just that ever since we learned about Hermione’s abilities, things have often been… frightening – no offence intended.”

Tardok smiled warmly. “None taken, Doctor. Having children of my own, I understand completely. I can only imagine what it was like for you to discover that your daughter had seemingly supernatural abilities.”

“Please forgive my husband’s lack of manners, Mr Tardok, and have a seat,” Jane interjected. “Would you like some tea? Or coffee, perhaps?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” he replied politely as he settled himself on a nearby squashy chair. “We need to leave in a few minutes, anyway.” He turned to Hermione. “Miss Granger, may I see your infopadd, please?” She drew it from her purse and handed it to him. “Amazing,” he said in a bare whisper while gazing at it reverently. He looked back up while taking another infopadd from his breast pocket. “Miss Granger, I’d like to offer you this newer model in exchange as this unit is of great cultural and historic value to us. It was issued to the crew of the vessel which brought our ancestors to your world and will have an honoured place in the museum in the Groom Lake Colony.”

Nodding respectfully, she silently accepted the new device.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. Now, the new one is slightly different as it’s been designed for use off-colony and has some security features added to it. Otherwise, it functions in the same manner as the old one. When you activate it for the first time, think of your full name while pushing some of your _elu_ – your magic – into it. This will key the infopadd to allow only you to use it. I’m sure that you understand the necessity as you’ve seen what information is available to it.”

“Yes, I have and thank you for this. I appreciate the trust you’re showing me. I promise not to abuse it.”

“You’ve been given full access to all but the very few things that are limited to the highest levels of our government. You’ve proven your discretion to the High Councillor himself and Ambassador Potter has spoken highly of you…”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide as she interrupted with a small shriek, “_Ambassador_ Potter?”

The seemingly thirty-something envoy chuckled. “Yes, as of yesterday afternoon, Harry Potter was named the Atlantian Ambassador to the British Ministry of Magic and Wizengamot. I understand that he was as surprised as you are, but I’ll leave it to him and High Councillor Ecklin to tell you about it.” Turning to the senior Grangers, he again reached inside his jacket, this time removing a small cube made of that same ubiquitous white material. “While your daughter is at the colony, her mobile phone should work normally, unlike when she’s in the regular Terran magical communities. But just in case, this,” he held up the cube before setting it on the coffee table in front of him, “will allow you to contact her. Simply touch it and say her name and it will contact her through her infopadd.”

“But,” Jane said hesitantly, “we’re not magical.”

“No, you’re not,” Tardok replied calmly, “but this does not require magic – what we call _elu_ – to operate. It’s simply a machine.” He took a breath as he explained, “Our society learned long ago not to depend on any one thing. If we hadn’t learned to embrace technology and science as well as _elu_, we never would have been able to explore the galaxy as we have been for millennia. In fact, some of the more pessimistic scholars think that without that balance, we would have destroyed ourselves. I’m not certain that I entirely agree, but they do make convincing arguments.”

He stood and held his hand out to Hermione. “We must go. Do you have all of your things ready?”

Accepting his assistance, she stood and gestured to her purse. “It’s all right here.”

“Then shall we go?”

Hermione hugged her parents and they all went out the door to see a gleaming, black Cadillac limousine waiting at the kerb. A tall, uniformed driver got out and opened the back door.

Frank snorted.

“What, Daddy?”

“I figured that you’d disappear like you would with your Portkey that the school gave you, or at least,” he glanced at Tardok sheepishly, “maybe a shuttlecraft or something.”

Tardok laughed out loud. “I can understand that. If it’s any consolation, this limo can be used in that manner, if necessary. We just do a better job of blending in than the Terran Magicals do.”

A chuckle escaped Hermione’s lips at a sudden thought. “Harry put you up to this, didn’t he?”

The Atlantian grinned in reply.

Turning to her parents, she explained, “When Harry and I were planning my trip to find you, he was adamant that there should be a limo to pick me up at the airport. I was eventually able to talk him out of it as most of the Magical governments really didn’t want British witches and wizards entering their countries at the time and I was trying to be discrete. Limos really aren’t terribly discrete.” She shook her head in amusement. “I love you Mum and Dad. I’ll see you in a few days.” After another round of hugs, she walked to the waiting car and got in.

Tardok held back for a moment. “I understand your concern and assure you that she’ll be fine. I, too, would be worried if my daughter were going off to someplace strange. But even if she were invited to join our society and accepted, you two, as her parents, would be equally welcome and we’d willingly assist you in staying in touch. Unlike the magical societies you are more familiar with, we encourage intermingling with the non-magical inhabitants of this world. Please don’t worry, you won’t lose her.

“If you have any other concerns, the communications device I left you can be used to contact me as well in the same manner. It was wonderful to meet you both.” Shaking their hands, he also entered the vehicle and they drove away.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;

Hermione sat in silent contemplation as the car was skilfully navigated through the outskirts of Sydney. Turning to her companion, she asked, “So, how are we getting to Nevada and how long will it take?”

Tardok replied as the car headed towards what seemed to be a large industrial complex. “We’re taking this car and it will take less than half an hour.”

“How..?”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Just wait a few more minutes and you’ll see.”

The limo pulled inside a walled compound and stopped. A moment later, it lifted gently into the air as it ever-so-slightly reconfigured itself – the wheels retracted and a long, narrow cylinder protruded from the bottom of the car on each side – before hurling itself into the sky at high speed. She raised a questioning eyebrow as she smirked at her chuckling escort.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger, but I couldn’t disappoint your dad. I figured that if I admitted that this was a shuttlecraft, he’d want a ride and we really didn’t have the time,” the Atlantian admitted sheepishly.

“You’re right, he would,” Hermione laughed. “Another time, maybe?” Her eyes were shining in amusement.

“Absolutely,” he assured her with a wide grin.

With another laugh, she sat back as the Cadillac sped through the clear Australian sky and across the Pacific Ocean, heading for the infamous Area 51 and, more importantly, her best friend.

&lt;&lt;&lt;OOO&gt;&gt;&gt;


End file.
